


Ebony and Ivory

by SpiritChilde



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Oral, Romance, Self Insert, Slow Burn, Smut, reader - Freeform, rough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2019-11-19 13:11:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 40
Words: 329,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18136193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritChilde/pseuds/SpiritChilde
Summary: You are born of the Void, a place so cold and dark one cannot seem to comprehend it. Under orders from a mysterious Deity, you are brought to Red Grave city on a mission to fix the chaos tearing everything apart. But higher powers are at play, and your destiny entwines with that of a black-haired, poetry-loving man on his own mission to put a stop to the Qliphoth's terror.Some inspiration taken from Dishonored.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I took some liberties from another favorite game of mine, and based the protagonist around Dishonored and the Outsider, just a heads up. Also, my timeline extends over days, much longer than what the game suggests. I hope you enjoy!

_ Chapter One _

_ The Void was so cold and cloying.  _

You awoke in its black embrace, wrapped in chill and embers. Breath settling in lungs like a heavy, heady fog. Your eyes opened, taking in the dull glow, the  suspended  debris, the lonely gaze of a whale carcass floating by. There was nothingness here in the Void, an empty feeling that expanded into the dark ness . Here you were alone, yet one with everything. A single voice calling into nothingness, a part of the chorus crying into the night. Your hand reached upwards—or was it down—as a chilled gasp escaped your pent-up lungs.

_ Awaken, his voice did speak.  _

You wouldn’t have awoken if “He” didn’t have a task for you. The mouthpiece of the Void, the forsaken man you sold your soul to. All those years ago. You could scarcely remember any time that wasn’t now. You sat up, body stiff and blood coursing fast through waking veins. You look at your hands, seeing the tone of your skin return. Your nails didn’t grow since you saw them last, a scar remained on your palm from...when did you get that scar? It belonged there, you knew that, but why?

_ Shake the cobwebs from your frame. _

You stood, a cold, chilling wind passing over naked flesh. You were used to this cold by now, you did not shiver. The cold reminded you that you are alive. Your pale colored hair settled in the air, eyes now fully open, clarity returning. You knew what it was you had to do, and who you served. As the wind rushed past, you felt clothing settling on your frame. A blouse, waist hugging shorts, thigh highs. You preferred it like this. A feeling of normalcy  followed, arms stretched over your head until joints pop ped  and muscles groaned. Awake now, fully. 

_ Your soul is his to keep. _

You rolled your eyes at the whispering of the Void, rubbing them in the nest instant as you walked forward out of the dark cloud that had cradled you. Debris formed underneath you with each step, creating your path. This place had a flare for the over dramatic. Then again, so did the being that made its home here. At the very thought of him, the air in front of you shimmered and cracked, shards of dark crystals swirling and taking shape. No matter how hard you tried, you could never recall his face when you weren’t looking straight at it.

_ He is of all things, songs whispered to cradles and bones gnawed by teeth. _

You sighed, staring at the one thing on him you remembered. His gaze, swallowed whole by darkness. Black eyes stared back from cold skin, and the man smiled.

“You look well rested, Y/N,” He said in a smooth purr, walking in a slow circle around you. 

It was in your nature to wait until he prompted you to speak, hands clasped behind your back. You can't remember a time he ever laid his hands on you, always a few steps away. A distance, a reminder. He was a celestial being, something unknown and mysterious. More than the world and humanity itself. And you, born of mortal flesh and bone, made more by the Void’s whispering. You knew your place and your duties. You were just impatient to get to them.

“How do you feel?” He hummed when your silence persisted, head tilted to the side. The Void rustled his hair—what color was it again?

You shrugged, letting out a quiet yawn before replying.

“I feel fine enough,” You felt no pain, just a little lethargic, “A bit hungry. Will the place you send me have places to eat?”

He smiled—at least you think he did? And clasped his hands behind his back, “Aren’t you at least a slight bit curious of where you are going? And why?” He sounded amused at least. 

“I assumed you were going to inform me,” Was your dry reply, “As you always do.”

He chuckled ; the sound carried on soft blowing winds.  His laughter  seemed to echo into eternity, finally sending a chill up your spine. You were reluctant to admit you were eager to set out—tasks meant time away from the Void, in sunlight and warmth, fresh air and food. With people not consumed by an ever-present torment. You had no idea how long you had slept, but then again time had no meaning here and each dimension visited traveled at its own pace.

But you were sure he already knew that. 

His feet tapped on stone, and it appeared he was doing laps around you again. You stifled a sigh, impatience building but mouth unable to say anything. Let him go at his own pace, patience will be rewarded right? You tried to tell yourself as much. With each passing second your mind began to buzz anew at the prospect of seeing new faces, learning new things. A warm shower, the feeling of lather in your hair. You never realized how important the little things were until spending time in the Void—despite the time you spent sleeping, it still left its mark on you. You couldn’t wait to do simple things. A sip of tea, the warmth of a hug. Would you be able to hug people there?

“I see you are as eager as ever,” The being before you hummed, his voice passing from one ear to another, “Perhaps I shouldn’t take up too much of your time?”

You  bit your tongue, remembering he could know everything as you knew it. Pushing down the buzzing energy, you replied as neutral as you could, "Being in your presence is always a gift, Master. Do not rush on my account.”

He chuckled again, turning into a cloud of black crystal shards and shimmering back to your view. Taking form once more, he leveled his gaze on you. You saw his expression shift from amused to serious, at least from what you could recognize from him. All the years serving him had taught you well enough to notice his shifts in mood. How many years had it been again, since you took your first breath of cold air, since your soul was claimed in his name? The thought settled in your stomach like lead weights, a reminder of who you were. The taste of ice and metal settling on your tongue the more you inhaled the chilled air, each moment wasted could have been another moment free.

The Void was both comfort and a curse, pain and relief. Claws on your spine and balm on your soul. You straightened your back, gaze meeting his as the its whispers settled around you. Duty first, fun later right?

“ _ You should know by now your duties and what it is I expect of you, _ ” His tone was both flat and melodic, mingling together like nails on a chalkboard and windchimes. This was an order, and your body tensed immediately as you felt his energy seize you,  _ “Something has tipped the balance, and it is your job to fix it. A blight, an impurity, a taint. It has tipped the scales of a dimension so far it threatens others.” _

_ If he is a mouthpiece, you are a puppet. _

He stepped closer to you, toe to toe now and just close enough you felt the chill of his breath. He smelled of salt and the ocean, of something dark and ancient and forbidden. You felt the black of your eyes swallow the irises, until your own eyes mimicked his. You were given an order to follow, it was now written in obsidian. The wind in the Void howled, louder and louder, until it was whipping against you like a hurricane. You felt as if you were beginning to fall, sight slipping away as the whispers and cries around you grew louder and louder, from all directions. Yet still above the chaos and noise you could feel his gaze, fixed on you. His voice was loud in your ear, yet still a whisper.

_ “You will travel to Redgrave city, and you will fix what disaster they have wrought. Do not disappoint me." _

~~~

Upon waking, nausea was your first companion.

Disorientation and dizziness were close seconds. You were facing the sky, sounds around you muffled liked they were under water.  Everything was like that at first, as if a haze of water was shielding your senses.  Slowly, they began to rise as you blinked several times.  You saw your hand, shielding your eyes from the sun, clouds drifting in and out of focus. It clicked with you a moment later—The sun! How long had it been since you felt its warmth, felt warmth at all? It had felt like ages despite you having no conception of the time you spent sleeping. Your senses returned, one by one as you sat up quickly—too quickly. Your stomach lurched a second later, a gag quickly swallowed and leaving an unpleasant taste in your mouth. 

Ugh, traveling from the Void to new locations was either a breeze or a nightmare. In this instance? A nightmare. 

You groaned aloud, rubbing both hands down your face as you put your head between your knees, willing the world to stop tilting. Physicality sucked sometimes. Though you found yourself enjoying what you could register through the discomfort of your settling body. The air? Comfortable. Back? Warmed from the sun. Ground hard and breeze so forgiving and. ..what was the hell was that  _ smell? _ On that breeze was a stench that sent your stomach rolling again. You gagged a few more times, lifting your head with a heavy cough and wiping your mouth. What the hell was  _ that?  _ You registered sulf u r, ash, rot, and burning rubber. A cacophony of unpleasant things and very bad signals. Ash and sulfur usually meant demons, as did rot. As for burning rubber... you got your answer upon finally looking around. 

You were on a concrete roof of what used to be an office building, or at least you assumed. Upon shakily coming to your feet you were able to see it was half submerged in water...along with dozens upon dozens of other broken, shattered buildings. Debris, everywhere. It looked like parts of the Earth’s crust had been displaced, jutting up from the ground with buildings still attached in the distance. What in the name of the Void had happened here? Mass destruction met your every glance. You could see smoke billowing up in several locations, ash floating on a gentle breeze that seemed a bit strange in the chaos. You could hear what sounded like a car alarm in the distance, and you found yourself seeing a lot of...spikey brambles?  _ Big  _ spikey brambles. Huge vines, weaving in between the buildings and chaos and...

What the fuck was  _ that? _

You found your eyes hovering on a towering behemoth in the sky. What in the freshest of hells were you looking at? It reached into the clouds, tall as a skyscraper. Swirling tendrils curled into a ball into the sky, almost like the branches of a tree, glowing red in place and dusting the land in light clouds of ash. A mixture of brambles and thorn, it painted a strange picture amongst all the chaos. You put your hands to your face again, blinking over and over as you tried to get your bearings. There was so much to unpack her. Strange monster tree, strange monster brambles, mass destruction. This was clearly the cause of  the imbalance , but you knew virtually no information at that moment to form a plan of any kind. The first step was to figure out what those things were, why they were there, and how to get rid of them. If you were lucky.

“Fuck.” You muttered, disappointment filling you, “I somehow think I won't be getting a shower anytime soon.”

Luckily there was zero people around to hear you mumbling to yourself. You had to get your bearings on being a normal person again. You tapped your feet on the ground, stretching your arms and testing your body. Felt strong enough, felt sturdy enough. Everything was in the right places. You let out a slow breath, concentrating on activating the energy of the Void your body possessed. Instantly, a burning sensation slithered along your palms, glowing light blue marks traveling through your veins like glowing whale oil. The ground beneath you crackled to life, tendrils of energy emerging and swirling in a deadly dance around your feet. You quickly deactivated the energy, feeling it settle back inside with a low hum of power. Everything in its place and all things as they should be.

You were still sad about that shower though.

 Stifling the disappointment, you stretched again, brain racing as you eyed the big, scary-looking tree in the distance. Most times you popped into a situation it was before everything had gone to hell. Whatever had happened to this place, “Redgrave city” was without foresight. You were put there with purpose, clearly there was something you were meant to find in this time, in this moment. Or maybe it was just the Deity playing his games. The thought had you sighing again, something you felt you would be doing a lot for this task. There was a lot of ground to cover, and you were unsure of where to start amongst all the bullshit. 

That was until you heard the sound of loud, deep snarls in the distance, mingled with the sound of a building collapsing. 

You immediately darted to the other side of the roof, griping a flag pole as your gaze searched the horizon. Almost immediately you saw something big, scary, and ugly in the distance. Oh, that was most  _ certainly  _ a demon. You could make out spikes and sharp teeth, horns and. ..a mouth on its stomach. This might as well be a thing, right? You made a visible face of disgust, watching its mighty jaws move and speak, but unable to see who it was speaking to, or make out what it was saying. That was a perfect place to start. You saw it jump down, out of view, and immediately pressed forward.

The Void gave you the speed and agility you needed to grip the pole, using it for leverage to springboard off the side of the building over the water. The Void power activated immediately, blue tendrils shooting out to grip the next building before you could land, sending you forward faster with each bound. A smile spread across your face, elation filling you now that the nausea and disorientation were gone. The air felt so warm, rushing past your body with each leap—like soaring. The impact of your feet was dulled by magic, the sensation of running so satisfying after not doing so for a long time. You connected to the next building, tilting back and arching your body down to graze your fingers along the water's surface. It felt cool, so real under your fingertips. It  _ was _ real. You let out a light laugh, turning into a shout of delight as the momentum took you skyward again.

To be alive was a true gift, one you would not take for granted.

With each movement energy sizzled through your limbs, electrifying and slightly painful. Pain was welcome, a reminder. As you moved you kept your eyes on the cathedral you saw the creature standing on earlier. The closer you got, the more its voice became clear. Guttural, warped, demonic. It was cursing at someone, the sounds immediately followed by the rumble of a crumbling building. You skidded to a halt along the edge of a closer piece of debris, suspended by tendrils as your eyes searched for the creature again. Near enough to make out what it was saying now, filled with frustration and rage. Upon further focus, you saw it again—it was inside the cathedral now.  What was he swatting at? Zipping white hair, bursts of energy and metal scraping on metal...

That looked like a human.  _ It was. _

Or at least, they looked it, you didn’t want to assume. A humanoid figure, fighting with the demon much to your shock and immense relief. Thank the gods and their glory, you wouldn’t just be interacting with  just  monsters for this task. Whoever this guy was, he sure was zipping around fast. Fighting the demon, you could make out just that much. You heard his light laughter in the chaos, mingled with...taunting. He was taunting the creature, making it more and more mad as it destroyed yet another wall of the building. Fascination and excitement filled you, along with a pleasant sense of watching an action scene play out like a movie. You were impressed—The little human guy seemed to be holding his own quite well. He was fast,  wielding what looked to be a sword and slashing the creature over and over as they tumbled out into a courtyard.

You quickly and quietly leapt to the next building you could get attached to, peeking over the edge at the fight below with elated interest. You didn’t know what species this world had, but you were getting the feeling it was more than your garden variety humans. You were close now, hidden from sight but close enough to see the fight below with clarity. The man had short white hair, a cocky facial expression on a chiseled face. But more importantly, he had what looked to be a glowing metal arm on the right half of his body. He was using it to level this attack on the demon—who was a thousand times uglier up close. You ached for popcorn, watching the fight was certainly entertaining. The unfamiliar man grabbed the demon that must have been ten times bigger than he, whipping it around by its tail over and over before flinging it into a nearby building with a shout of elation.

Well. This was definitely the place to start.

Heart beating with excitement and fear, you slid down the side of the debris, unseen by the two fighting creatures. Your tendrils formed almost feathery paths on the water for you to walk on, taking you up so you could duck behind a nearby pile of broken concrete to quietly watch. The problem now was not getting attacked. Or at least seeing if this man was friendly. You lost count of how many times you had been attacked by those you were supposed to help—people jumped to conclusions a lot. Humans especially. You touched your hand to the concrete, peeking out lightly and pushing your hair over one shoulder. This fight was coming to an end, it would seem. You watched the creature fall into a building, sending it crumbling as wheezed and groaned.

“I must not be defeated...in a place like this...!” He rasped, pulling himself slowly up again, “The fruit...is mine...! I will rule the Underworld, not him...!”

Underworld? Him? You frowned, feeling like you were getting puzzle pieces, but all in the wrong order and zero clue to what the puzzle would form.

You saw the  white haired man raise a gun, pointing it at the creature to more than likely provide the killing blow. But something stopped him. A rush of air, and the sound of flapping wings. You gaze darted up to see a dark blue, demonic bird swoop down to the demon, flying around it tauntingly as it tried to swat the bird away. It was a beautiful creature, despite the demonic edge it had. Deep, dark blue feathers flapping powerfully as it dodged the demon’s swiping claws, cackling all the while. 

Then, from your right, a voice spoke out.

_ “I curse my stars in bitter grief and woe, _ ” The deep, smooth purr of a voice mused as a new face walked himself on the tattered courtyard, idly twirling a silver cane with each step, “ _ That made my love so high and me, so low.” _

This felt like the punchline to a very odd joke. A demon, a  twink , and a goth walked into a bar—You had to bite your lip to stop a snort. All that time in the Void was making you insane. This new man was different from the other, another pretty boy all the same but carrying a very different vibe. Head down, black hair waving in the breeze and looking vaguely like he stepped out of a hot topic catalog. Did hot topics exist here? You shook your head to clear the thought, watching in curiosity as the newcomer approached. You recognized that poem he had quoted—it was by William Blake. Some things did cross dimensions it would seem. And what an odd thing, to stroll into a scene with your head down, reading poetry from a small leather-bound book.

The white-haired boy seemed to recognize the newcomer, lowering his gun as he approached the demon. The pale man’s back was now to you, and you found yourself fascinated with all you saw. He was covered in tattoos as well, ones that writhed as he rose his cane, pointing it at the distracted demon. You saw from its tip a burst of black energy, then a panther was bounding toward the demon. Before you could see what happened, the bird swooped near you, causing you to duck behind the debris just as the sound of blades rang out. You pressed to the concrete surface, hoping the demonic creature didn’t see you. Why were you so nervous? Probably because you always were when there was so much you didn’t understand. 

A couple blue feathers fell near you, slowly falling to the ground as you heard more voices behind you. 

“Why...why are you...?” The demon rasped weakly after you heard his body hit the ground hard, his voice carried on the light breeze around you.

“ _ Little wander, _ ” The voice of the man, the one with ebony hair. You slide down, back to the debris as you tried to keep as quiet as possible.

“ _ Hie _ _ thee home... _ !” His voice was somehow...pleasant, melodic and smooth, even as you heard him grunt and the sound of his cane cutting through flesh. The demon released a pained cry, blood spurting on concrete hard to miss as he disintegrated. Or at least you thought so. You were too afraid to pop out yet. Your Void sense was tingling, your foresight warning you that something had already changed from your presence. Which wasn’t a good sign, considering you were hiding at that moment. But now the demon was dead, and you had no idea how to make yourself known or approach people. Dread curled in your gut, anxiety mingling with all the time you had missed in your slumber. The Void always left you messed up afterwards, yet also making you whole again. 

The boy spoke now, his voice sounding pleasantly surprised as his footsteps moved toward the other man, “Thought I was  gonna have to pick you out of his...uh...tummy teeth,” He grunted.

You twisted one of the feathers in your fingers, swallowing as the bird swooped overhead again.

“Pardon my delay,” Came the smooth, light toned reply, “I was catching up on some reading.”

“Yeah,” The white-haired boy replied, sounding pretty disinterested. You wished you could look and check but the sound of something crumbling made you hesitate, “Looks like a real page-turner.”

The men kept talking for a few moments, and you caught the name “Dante” and mention of an unfamiliar term. “ Qliphoth ” and “ Qlipoth pollen”. You also learned immediately that your suspicions were correct—the thing in the sky was in fact a tree, a tree that grew in the underworld as the black-haired man told it. He was saying a lot of things you needed to hear, thank the lord. A blood sucking demon tree, that’s exactly the thing you weren’t hoping for. Not that specifically, but close enough right?

“If Dante is alive, we save him,” The boy huffed as he took in the information as well, his footsteps starting up again, “If not, we don’t.”

“Wait.” His footsteps were halted by the other man. That word alone sent a worried thrill up your spine. You felt like a kid playing hide and seek, right about to be caught. 

“First we need to exterminate some... Qliphoth roots,” The man suggested, his tone lilting and smooth. You closed your eyes—goth man definitely had the voice for poetry. You remember a lecture in class once from a literature major, he used to read poetry all the time in a voice far less pleasant. The memory sent a twinge of pain through your skull, hand coming up to press the source as you winced. Remembering the past always lead to pain, you needed to remember that. Eyes always forward, not back. Besides, you had more important things to focus on. You debated following these men from a distance, observing them as best you could without being caught. Stealth was always an option.

You heard the feet start moving again, only to be halted by the one sentence you didn’t want to hear. Right above your head. 

“So sorry, gentleman,” A grating voice said in an amused tone, causing your head to jerk up to see the bird staring down at you with glowing eyes, "We seem to have an audience...!”

Shit.

Your foresight suddenly flared, marking that you had altered the situation. Your presence was very known now, there was no doubting that. You gasped, lurching back in shock as the bird cackled lightly at your reaction. You weren’t fast enough. Sharp talons grasped you by the shoulders in the next instant, digging into skin as you were pulled into the air with ease. How could you have been such an idiot?! That time in the Void had definitely screwed with your focus. The bird was apparently strong, pulling your squirming form up over the debris and depositing you not too gracefully onto the ground right in front of the two men—the  white haired man had his gun raised again, the other holding his cane pointed at you. Gaze lifted, you found yourself face to face with a snarling panther, eyes burning a vicious red as it took a step toward you. 

You didn’t dare activate your powers, not yet. Not till you had a better grasp on the situation.

“A human  survivor ?” The white-haired boy said in surprise when you lifted your head, now seeing your face in the light. He was definitely a looker up close, they both were. You felt very small despite the level of power you knew you had. Anxiety never seemed to fade, you felt like you were in trouble. He still had his gun raised at you, and you definitely didn’t want to appear threatening.

You leaned back, a worried expression on your face as you whispered, “Um...please don’t shoot me?” It sounded like a question, even though you were sure you were not asking one.

Both men stared down at you, then at each other.

The black-haired man frowned, turning his gaze to you again and tilting his cane. He pressed the flat handle to your throat, tilting your chin up so they could closer inspect you. 

“Human survivors are heavily unlikely,” He replied to an unasked question, lips curving into a wry smile, “So I highly doubt that’s the case. Though I’d also imagine if she meant to attack, she would have already, yes? Although,” Despite his smooth, gentle tone, the cane pressed a little harder, a warning of sorts as he continued, “Eavesdropping is...very  _ rude,  _ little miss.”

 This man had very nice eyebrows, a strong nose, and full lips. You tried to focus on that instead of that growing fear you might fail your mission. Fighting the one lead you had was out of the question, and the Deity would not be happy. You gulped, trying to slow your heartbeat. 

“I. ..wasn’t trying to...” You replied as calmly as you could manage with cold metal on your throat, “And I am human. I... i mean, not a normal human, sure, but I am a human.”

You were stuttering, you couldn’t help it. And technically you weren’t lying either. You were human in orgin, made better by the energy of the Void. Half truths were better than outright lies.

The  black haired man hummed, seeming to weigh your words as the  twink asked, “What do you mean by ‘not a normal human’?” He pushed the cane away from your face, putting his gun in its holder and shooting the goth man a look that clearly said “back off”. He complied, a smirk on his lips as he retracted the cane and took a step back. You released a heavy, relieved breath you didn’t know you were holding, glad you no longer had the looming threat of a bullet and a poetry major of your head.

“I was born...gifted,” You replied hesitantly, accepted a hand when white-haired boy offered it to you and coming to your feet, “I have abilities, almost like magic. They are what helped me survive until now.” Again, not a lie.

Both men exchanged another glace, silence stretching for a few moments as they both thought over what you said. You looked at the panther still circling you, low growls coming from its chest. It was beautiful as well, black with swirling red glowing patterns in its fur. Your hand twitched, and you quickly stifling the urge to touch anything before you lost a hand. What the hell was wrong with you? Impulse control had never been a strong suit it would seem, though your brain at least knew well enough not to follow through. Especially not when these two men still didn’t seem to know how to handle you. 

Before they could speak to you again, the screech of tires quickly approached. All three of you turned to see a giant van skidding harshly in your direction. You quickly leapt back with the men, but were flattered when the  twink still stepped in front of you to protect you and goth boy grabbed your arm to pull you out of the way. Both looked at you when your agility registered, and all you could muster was a shrug.

A woman popped out of the window of the van, dark hair messy over a cute face with freckles over her nose and cheeks.

“I know I know I’m late. Shut it!” She quip p ed in a southern drawl, pointing at the two, “The roads were all clogged...!”

You heard the  twink sigh lightly, pressing a hand to his head as he relaxed a bit. The girl in the van blinked, taking in the situation in a brief pass of her gaze.

“Uh... I know you must be V,” She pointed at the goth—his name was V obviously—before pointing one cutely painted nail at you, “Who’s the new girl? You didn’t mention ‘ nuther person, Nero.”

V and Nero. Awesome, you now knew both names.

It took a second for you to realize that V was still griping your arm. Only when he released it did it click, the man taking a step back and tilting his head in observance of you. Nero let out another sigh, you turning in enough time to see him shrug.

“We don’t exactly know her,” He replied, leaning against the van with his metal arm, "Says she has powers though—what's your name, kid?”

You blinked, raising a brow at the word “kid”. You were young in appearance but you were pretty sure you were twenty when you sold your soul. And you looked twenty. Average height too,  whearas Mr.  Twink didn’t look a day over eighteen. His actual age was a mystery to you, but that didn’t matter at the moment. 

“Y/N,” You replied, offering a small, but slightly annoyed smile, “And I’m not a kid. I turned twenty this year.” Big lie, but they didn’t need to know that.

Nero smirked cockily, shrugging as he pushed off from the van, “Noted. Can you fight?”

You nodded simply.

He grunted in reply, “Can you fight  _ demons _ ?”

You nodded again, “I can.” Not a lie. Demons were  child ' s play.

The woman replied before Nero, smacking a hand on the side of the van as she hollered impatiently, “She’s in then! Now hurry it up, I don’t got all day!” She looked at you and pointed at herself, “My name is Nico, you come to me if you need shit, got that?”

You nodded again, offering a timid smile. Agreeing to everything seemed the best course of action. Nico seemed pleased, pulling back into the van—or maybe it was a variation of mobile home—with a chuckle. You looked over the vehicle with a mix of confusion  anf fascination. Bright neon letters lit up the side, “Devil May Cry” a hard thing to miss. It was on the tires as well. A brand? You wanted to ask, but that familiar flapping sounded overhead, and you turned in enough time to see V put out his arm. The bird swooped down to land on the provided appendage, rustling his feathers and leveling you with a sharp gaze. You immediately straightened your back, staring at him with a mixture of unease and awe.

“Simple as that huh? Just like that, the pretty little princess is a part of the gang!” The bird commented in a sharp tone, following it with a light cackle, “Just  gonna take her word for it! Nero you  _ are  _ a genius!”

Everyone was just full of nicknames for you it would seem. You felt like someone else had called you “Princess” before. Only last time you were fairly certain it was an enemy and you broke its nose. You also decided in that moment that you didn’t like the nicknames, a frown settling on your lips as the bird met your challenging gaze with one of his own—beautiful bird, made of absolute bastard it would seem. You had dealt with things like that before.

“We can take all the help we can get,” Nero said in a tone heavily implying violence against this bird, pointing at him with his metal arm threateningly, “If you have any issues with my decision making I’ll be happy to  _ discuss it  _ with you.”

Seemed like there was little room for discussion.

“Oh boy, let’s all gang up on the bird for being the realistic one!” He cackled, but with less steam now, “If she ends up dead weight, you’ll all be sorry you didn’t listen...!”

You saw a muscle twitch under Nero’s eye, whatever he said making the boy very, very ticked. The bird leaned his head back, seeming to click right away with the realization of he said something wrong. You had zero idea of what line was crossed, but you wanted to ease the tention somehow.

“I assure you, I’ll be plenty useful,” You shrugged, easily drawing everyone’s attention to you again, “Though I’ll gladly  recline the nickname ‘princess’ if you don’t mind.”

The bird seemed surprised you spoke, so you continued.

 “How long were you sitting on  _ that _ zinger, ten  piece ?” You kept your tone neutral, smiling again when his feathers puffed up in annoyance, “My name is _ Y/N, _ by the way. Just in case you couldn’t hear it over your own squawking.”

Much to your shock, your reply made mister goth smile. You saw just the back end of an amused smirk as he turned his head away to hide it, holding this bird up as it made an indignant series of noises at you. Nero relaxed a little, shaking his shoulders a little as he let the tension drop and turned away.

“Let’s not waste any more time, shall we?” V suggested, brushing past you lightly with a light hum, “There are plans to be made, and  Qliphoth roots to be destroyed.”

Nero nodded and lead the charge as they headed to enter the van. You hesitated for a moment, watching the panther slink along behind its master and flicking its tail. You weren’t sure that you were meant to follow until Nico poked her head out again, making a motion to you and mouthing ‘can you pick that up?’ as she pointed to a demon horn on the ground. You paused, grabbed it, then looked up again to see her give a thumbs up, motioning eagerly for you to follow behind V inside. You let out a slightly relieved sigh, and made quick work of catching up to the man, observing him curiously all the while.

This is all you had for now, but you had a good feeling about this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy! Lets keep the adventure going

_ Chapter 2 _

Upon entering the van, you realized right away that it was in fact a mobile home of sorts. On one end rested a leather couch, the area sized to be a small living space. It smelled of cigarettes and metal, yet also with a slight hint of something unmistakably feminine. A perfume or something. It felt cozy, albeit a bit messy. At that moment it was also pretty cramped. Nero moved to the front to sit by Nico while they discussed their course of action, V taking up a chair behind the driver's seat at a small table. His bird found its perch on an old jukebox off to the side, still looking pretty ruffled from his argument earlier. Did the bird and cat have names? You wanted to ask, but mister pretty boy goth was engaged in speaking to the other two about their plan of attack.

The panther settled down near V’s feet, still close enough to touch. You stared back at their piercing red eyes with silent longing. It loo ked so soft, and you were going stir crazy while waiting for the others to remember you were there. Gathering your courage and accepting the loss of an appendage, you slid to the floor and sat cross-legged, watching the creature’s pelt ripple warily now that you were closer. Upon further inspection, you realized the cat was a dark blue as well, although much more subtle. It growled lightly at you, ears flicking when kept looking at it hesitantly. 

V was still talking to Nero, discussing the  Qlipoth roots they had to destroy. You already had the gist of what needed to be done, so you didn’t really have to listen in. You had always been easily distracted—how you had survived this long with a success rate that high you would never begin to understand. You came here to fix a problem and instead you were trying to win over a big cat, one that looked ready to bite you. You wouldn’t say you were stupid per se, but impulse control was definitely not at the top of your list of skills. Your emotions and desires often got the better of you, that was something very apparent even when you were just a human.

While the others continued to talk, you quietly summoned your Void power, murmuring a quiet incantation as you centered the ability on your palm. 

“ _ From the Void into being.” _

From that point energy glowed and weaved, creating the organic object you imagined. One of your many abilities, it was meant to be used when you had zero access to food. With the power you had, you could create something from the nothingness of the Void. That something usually just organic material like meats, fruits. If you absorbed something from a world you could easily replicate it. After going to so many worlds there were hundreds of things you could make, though the energy it took to do that depending on the item was too taxing. And it was only organic materials. Only medicines made from organic plants, only food and things of that nature. And here you were, expending energy to create fresh, raw red meat for this panther. 

Responsible, thy name is Y/N.

After you were finished, it occurred to you that the three had gone quiet. You blinked, and turned to see all of them staring at you. V looking curious and lightly bemused, the other two outright shocked.

“...Uh.” You cleared your throat, “Yeah?”

“Holy shit,” Nico whistled lightly, looking pretty excited all things considered, “How the hell did  ya do that...?!”

You looked at the meat in your palm—it was even cold to the touch. Fresh, real and just as real as meat cut from an actual cow. You supposed it would be really fucking strange to people who didn’t have such an ability.

“It’s one of my skills,” You replied, holding out a piece of meat for Nero to take, “Here, touch it. It's real raw meat. I mean, I wouldn’t suggest eating it raw but...You could cook it if you had the time.”

Nero pinched the scrap between his fingers, bringing it up to his nose to sniff. You found yourself smiling at his reaction, patiently waiting as he and Nico both mulled over the meat like it was the most fascinating  thing they’d seen all day. You remember being that entranced the first time you tried  it, you still remembered the first item you ever made—A chocolate bar. You could still make one now if you wanted, but wasting energy was a bad idea and your dumb ass had already expended some.

“How does it work?” Nero finally questioned, handing the meat back to you and wiping a hand on his jacket. 

You fought a laugh, offering back a rueful smile, “I don’t know the specifics myself. I just know if I absorb an organic material, I can take it and remake it as many times as I want from my energy.”

He made an impressed expression, leaning on the inside door of the van, “That’s pretty damn neat.”

Before you could reply, you hear Nico let out a low hum, one full of mischief.

“ Ohhh damn there, Nero. You already warming up to the new girl? Do I need to tell Kyrie?” She  tsked , shaking her head as if filled with  disappointment .

“Knock it off, Nico,” Nero frowned, crossing his arms over his chest and protesting indignantly, “Are you gonna say that any time I’m friendly to girls?”

“You  ain’t friendly to me, pretty boy.”

“Give me somethin’ to be friendly about, you maniac.”

“Who’s Kyrie?” You interjected quickly, trying to diffuse a rising argument peeking over the horizon. And by peeking you meant inches from exploding in this small space you all were in. The pair looked at you when you questioned, and you instantly noticed Nero’s expression soften a little, just a slight difference compared to his cocky expressions you were growing to accept as normal. Clearly this person was special to him, no doubting that.

“Kyrie is his fiancé,” Nico answered for him, jabbing Nero lightly in the shoulder, “Focus, lover boy. She takes care of some kids at an orphanage in Fortuna. A total sweetheart—how she ended up with this punk none of us know.” 

She jabbed a thumb at Nero again, making him huff and release a little peeved “Hey!”

So, he  _ wasn’t _ a  twink ?! This revelation both made sense and was vaguely disappointing. Was there a straight equivalent to a  twink ?

Regardless, you did have a task in mind when you summoned the meat. It occurred to you that V had said nothing during this entire exchange, and you glanced over to see him with a book opened in his hand, eyes scanning the page. Completely indifferent it would seem, which was pretty disappointing. If you were going to lose a hand to his pet cat, you at least wanted him to watch it happen, damn it. Still, you turned to look at the creature while Nero and Nico started to bicker a little bit again, completely distracted—you preferred it that way.

The cat looked at you again, nose twitching as you gingerly held out a piece of meat. A quick glance at the bird confirmed he was watching you like you were out of your god damn mind. That was pretty pleasing if you had to say so. You glanced at V again, and if you weren’t mistaken you thought he took a quick glance at you before delving back into his book.

You took in his appearance for a second--he was definitely an odd one. Long black pants, black sandals, black everything. Yet he carried himself with the energy of an old century poet longing for some lost love. Other than the fact that these two demons worked for him, he seemed pretty normal. The concept of familiars was not lost on you, many places you had seen touched on such things. Witches and warlocks often kept demons as companions and helpers, but you didn’t know if those things existed in this place.

Either way, you didn’t want to bother the goth in his musing. You instead turned to look at the bird on the jukebox, holding some meat out to him too.

“Hey, mister bird,” You quipped, “Do you and the cat have names?”

He looked surprised to be addressed by you again, and even more surprised that you seemed to be offering him food. You saw a gleam of interest in his eyes, but his feathers ruffled, stubborn and prideful as he tilted his head up.

 “What’s it to you, princess?” He sneered lightly, clawed feet tapping on the glass top of the jukebox, “And no offense, I don’t  wanna eat your weird magic meat!”

You sighed. That nickname again. 

“My name is  _ Y/N _ ,” You frowned in disappointment, “Come on I’m trying to be friendly here.”

He cackled a little, shaking out his tail feathers as the panther sniffed the air, still too warry to walk forward and take any food. You glanced at V again, expecting him to still be reading. You were instead startled when you found his dark green eyes meeting yours, a wry smile tilting his lips as you were caught in your expedition to win over his pet cat. If he was watching he might as well help you at the very least. Though you had to take pause—it had been a while since you found yourself dazed after staring at someone’s face. The guy definitely had the looks to make up for his bad fashion sense.

“Do they have names?” You asked him instead, since the bird was not cooperating at all. 

He closed his book with one hand, the soft thud very satisfying to hear. 

“They do,” He replied simply, much to the bird’s obvious annoyance, “The one you’re very determined to feed is Shadow. And the one you called ‘ten piece’ is Griffon.”

“V!” The bird, now dubbed Griffon, squawked indignantly.

He simply tilted his head, giving him an unapologetic look from underneath some long lashes. Boy, he had a smolder going on. It seemed like V was very passive and confident. His mannerisms were very strange, quiet yet carrying a sense of purpose and energy. You found yourself very fascinated in him—he was fairly mysterious to you. And you liked a good mystery. He also seemed fine with you trying to bribe his pet demons, which was always a plus in your book.

You looked at Shadow, holding out a piece of meat again as the cat twitched its nose at you.

“Come on, Shadow,” You said softly, desperately trying not to use the soft baby voice you generally used for cats. This was a demon and you were sure it was smarter than the average housecat and you didn’t want to insult it, “I swear it’s normal meat. I just wanna be friends.”

You heard Griffon snort loudly, head tilted toward you as he said mockingly, “How could you insult me at first chance but wanna be friends with the overgrown house cat?!” 

Oh jeez, he almost sounded offended. Griffon seemed pretty complicated—you had no doubts he hid behind a wall of insults and jibes to hide loneliness. You had seen it before.

“Don’t call me ‘princess’ and I won't call you ‘ten  piece ’,” You said with a genuine smile, offering some meat to him again while you felt V’s gaze burning into you from your right side, “Deal?”

He paused, and you swore you could hear the wheels in his head turning. You were a pretty patient person, and you could tell he was battling between pride and a million other things in that moment. You thought you heard a low chuckle from their goth master, your gaze briefly landing on him—he was leaning his head on one hand leisurely, watching to see how your little quest played out. Nico and Nero were arguing about Nero paying for his metal arms, but you couldn’t be bothered with that at that moment.

Suddenly you heard the scrape of claws, beak swooping down to quickly snatch the meat from your left hand. You smiled, incredibly pleased as you watched Griffon quickly slurp down the food you had produced as he took up his perch again. Then from your right you felt the brief brush of soft fur on your palm, a low growl sounding from Shadow as they too snatched some meat and slinked back away from you, curling around V’s legs as they chewed. You cheered internally, wiping your hands as you released a slow breath. You were easy to please it would seem—and pleased you were.

You heard V chuckle again, the man sitting forward and resting his hands on his cane as he grinned at you, eyebrow raised.

“Well now,” he remarked, tone so low and smooth it could have put you to sleep, “Don’t you look as smug as a peacock.”

You shrugged, leaning back against the couch and drawing your knees up to your chest, “It’s the little victories.”

“Oh?” He hummed in reply, fingers tapping on that cane, “An  optimist are you?”

You snorted, “Maybe. I just find being happy about every little thing makes life a lot better.”

Before V could reply, Nico sat down behind you, her feet brushing against your side as she lit up what appeared to be a cigarette. You tilted her head back to look at her, wincing a little when you were met with a cloud of tobacco smoke. The sudden urge to stand and leave was pretty overwhelming, smoking was definitely not your favorite thing, as much as you liked Nico as a person. You saw V mimic your discomfort, waving a hand through the smoke to clear it away from his face.

“So, uh, Y/N,” Nico commented, blowing another cloud of smoke as she addressed you, “What other kind of funky shit can you do?”

You couldn’t really tell her your range of abilities. Not then at least, maybe later when you knew who was worth trusting. You had your limits like most creatures, but you drew energy from a strange and mysterious source—technically there was a lot you could do, but your body had limits. The power of the Void was heavy and chaotic, deeply hard to wield and a heavy burden at times. Too much at once could damage you, and you had an amount of energy you could use before you started to overextend. You’d be useless if you did so, and it damaged you physically so you avoided such things at all costs. You knew your limits; you weren’t meant to be a magic fix-all for these scenarios. Merely a guiding hand with enough energy to put the steps of fixing it into motion. Thus, why you had the foresight.

So you decided on the safest answer.

“I can provide energy and heal wounds depending on their severity,” You said, tapping your nails on your knees, “Plus I can use the energy to fight, and you already saw the creating aspect. I have a limit though, and passing that limit is dangerous for me.”

Nico let out a thoughtful noise, eyeing you with a mix of curiosity and fascination.

“ So like, what are  ya then?” She puffed more ash, making a perfect “o” shape with her mouth, “You seem human. Are  ya half anythin’? Maybe ya got a demon daddy somewhere down the line.”

You shrugged at that, offering an apologetic smile as you replied, “Nothing that exciting. I get my powers from a deity of sorts—someone down the line probably made a deal for magic and I get the sloppy seconds from that.” Kind of a lie, kind of not. They didn’t need to know you were the one who made the deal.

“Whoa, that’s pretty cool!” Nico blinked, staring at you like you had grown horns, “Never heard of anythin’ like that before.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but was interrupted by V slowly rising to his feet. He was still waving away the smoke, brushing past you toward the door of the van as his companions followed him.

“I’ll be taking my leave now,” He said simply, offering Nero a half smile, “And If I don’t see you along the way...I’ll see you at the bottom of the Qliphoth.”

You felt a slight twinge of disappointment. You knew they were talking of splitting up earlier, but you were kind of hoping you could spend more time with the animals he kept with him. And, well...with him. He was a lot calmer and more collected than Nero, who’s heavy energy was a bit much for you if you were truly honest. As for Nico...the smoking was just too much. Brought back too many bad memories. The sensation of smoke in your face was definitely not welcome. 

You opened your mouth, unable to figure out how to ask if you could go with him. Luckily, you didn’t have to.

“V, take Y/N with you,” Nero put a hand on V’s shoulder, stopping him half out the door, “You could use the help.”

You saw V visibly pause, hesitation now showing in his frame as a couple seconds passed by.

“I assure you, I have the help I need,” He said simply, gesturing with his cane to Griffon and Shadow.

Nero crossed his arms, letting out an annoyed huff, “You’re pretty frail as it is, V. I don’t think your little bird friend can wrap a bandage and shit. You could use the healing energy and extra fire power as back up.”

There was another lengthy pause. Despite your mission here, you felt kind of guilty. You didn’t want to burden anyone or force your presence here—you had gotten the needed information, but this...You bit your lip,  e x changing a glace with Nico as the silence stretched a bit longer than you liked. In theory you could have gone off on your own, did your own fighting. It would have been easier without hiding your powers, but these people made your foresight burn. The y were a part of everything, at the very forefront of the conflict you were trying to fix. Whether with Nero or V, you'd still be getting the job done...but this was based on preference now. 

You nervously stood, brushing off dirt as you stepped up to address the two men.

“I don’t want to be forced on anyone,” You murmured, meeting Nero’s concerned gave as you continued, “I’ll try to be useful where  I can , but if V is uncomfortable, I—”

“Her presence is fine by me,” V interrupted you, despite how low and docile his tone was. Both you and Nero looked at him, but he met your gaze with one filled with calm curiosity, “I do have my moments of exhaustion. Nero is right, I could use a  backup when that happens.”

Was that relief? Sure was. You tried not to let it show on your face.

Nero, however, released an obviously relieved sigh, “Perfect. I’m sure we’ll meet up somewhere along the way. Until then, Y/N, watch his back.”

Griffon let out an annoyed huff, raising a clawed foot at Nero’s face, “What are me and furball here for then? You don’t trust us, pretty boy?”

“Yep,” Nero replied simply, brushing past with an obviously fake smile and a pat on your shoulder, “Be safe, you two. Nico, I’ll call if I need anything.”

As you said that you felt a hand press a small piece of paper into your palm, your head turning to see Nico standing to your right now. You looked at the paper, seeing a phone number hastily  scribbled there, along with Nico’s name.

“That’s my number,” She told you, tapping the paper twice, “ Ya need  anythin ’ you find a phone and call,  ya hear?”

You nodded, absorbing the paper into your palm after memorizing the number, “Thank you, Nico.” You would definitely call at some point, to see her if anything. Nico seemed friendly enough under the rough persona she projected. You liked that about her. It had been a while since you had any real friends, or friendly people to interact with. You had no idea how long you’d be there, but you were eager to savor every moment of it that you could get.  So you patted Nico’s shoulder once and offered a kind smile, turning to meet V’s gaze again.

He gestured with his cane, that half smile still on his lips.

“Shall we?”

You nodded, following him and his companions out of Nico’s van. The door closed behind you, the sun still shining outside. You put up a hand to shield your eyes, but enjoyed the warmth regardless. It would have been a beautiful summer day if not for all the chaos in the world. You gave the van behind you a passing glance as you followed V away, unsure about how you felt about the whole situation. What the hell  were you supposed to talk about? Would he even want to talk? Silence made you very nervous, but you didn’t want to be annoying either. You found yourself clasping your hands behind your back, taking small looks at V’s back when he walked. His shoulders were pretty broad for a guy so wiry. He had very slight muscle definition, and upon further inspection he did seem...frail.

Was he sickly? You frowned a little at the thought. He did walk with a cane, though you couldn’t tell if he had a limp or anything. His gate seemed steady, eyes fixed forward and...driven. He seemed very driven.

Or you assumed he was focused. He surprised you enough that you jumped when he spoke.

“There was always the option of staying behind,” He commented lightly, tilting that dark gaze to you with his typical wry smile. He never seemed to lose that little crooked smirk, like he was always in a state of constantly bemused. The only time he was without it was when he was reading that book.

“You seem very convinced that I wanted to stay behind,” You replied, jogging lightly to reach his side, “What’s that all about?”

He let out a light, thoughtful sound, tone light as he replied, “Merely an observation. You seemed to enjoy Nico’s company.”

You hummed quiet l y in response, taking in the buildings as you and V entered a part of the city still standing, albeit pretty damaged nonetheless. It looked like it would have been a nice city before the disaster. Gothic architecture with high windows, beautiful shops and what looked to be a market place in a city square. Or at least...they were beautiful once before. Now destroyed, bodies littering the streets frozen in their dying moments. You felt your heart sink as you passed them, seeing a child's form still holding a red balloon as ashes drifted from what remained of her.

Focus, the goth boy started a conversation.

“Nico is nice,” You replied after some thought,  trying to shake off the images around you,  “Nero is too. All three of you have been kind to me. But what can I say? I like animals and poetry.”

He chuckled at that, tapping the book tucked away in his vest with light fingers. You took the time to observe that he had nice hands, elegant and beautiful. 

“I’m glad you find enjoyment in my musings,” He said, turning his head away once more, “It 's going to be a long journey, so I’m sure you’ll be hearing a lot of it.”

You smiled lightly, running your fingers along a building as you passed by, “ Can I ask about that? What’s up with the whole poetry thing?”

You saw him pause, both Griffon and Shadow stopping with him as he turned to look at you with a pondering expression. 

“...Strange,” He replied after a few moments, that half smirk coming back again, “You are the first person who asked me.”

Nero and Nico never once thought to ask? You blinked, wondering just why the hell no one had thought it was strange he just reads poetry at all times. Which, mind you, normalcy wasn’t your strong suit either, and you didn’t have a problem with his poetry reading. The more you thought about it, the more it made sense that they wouldn’t ask. From what you saw of Nero’s fighting style...he was pretty god damn extra. And Nico was not normal in the slightest. Everyone in the group was a bit quirky and odd in their own way, and you found that comforting.

“I was just curious,” You replied, scratching the back of your head, “Which, mind you, if it’s a private thing you don’t have to tell me.”

He let out a low hum, giving his cane a light twirl again.

“I find poetry clears the mind and brings focus in clarity in moments where there is none,” He still told you his reasoning, giving you a smoldering glance from under those lashes, “One could also argue a flare for the dramatic.”

Translation: He was just as extra as Nero, just in different ways.

You fought a laugh, clasping your hands behind your back as you replied, “Noted.” 

He hummed in response, starting forward again with a tap of that cane. Griffon soared behind you, landing his talons on your shoulders with a solid “ oof ” from you both as you stumbled a little to accommodate his weight. He wasn't light by any stretch of the word, he was a big bird. He just barely managed to settle, resting half his weight on your head as he trilled quietly and huffed.

“So, what’s your deal, Y/N?” His voice was loud in your ear, sharp talons scratching you ever so slightly, “Got all those fancy powers and shit, just wandering around a broken city? What were you doing there?”

Griffon was asking the questions you had hoped to avoid. You let out a low murmur of thought, inhaling softly through your nose as you formulated your response.

“I’m...kind of a drifter,” You decided to reply, grasping onto his clawed feet to help steady him as you walked, “I like traveling from place to place, and I like helping people. I had been looking in the ruins for anyone who may have needed help, and to see if I could figure out what was going on. In a way, it worked out." It wasn't a lie. You told yourself that.

You heard him let out a quiet “huh”, shaking out his feathers a little as his beak rested on your head. You smiled, enjoying that Griffon seemed more comfortable in your company now. 

“So, you have the gist of the situation right? Got any more questions?” He asked, tapping your head with his beak.

You winced a little, “From what I gathered... Urizen is a bad boy who did bad things and he needs a spanking in that big tree in the sky,” You pointed at the  Qliphoth as you spoke, looking up at the towering behemoth with a disgusted gaze, “A guy named Dante may or may not be up there and need saving. Is that everything or am I missing something?”

Griffon snickered lightly, “Nah, that sounds about right.”

“Great. Then no, I don’t have any more questions.” That was a lie, you had several, but they were all more about personal things than the mission itself. You didn’t want to seem nosey and pry in on their  business . 

You saw V smirk at you again from the corner of your eye, but by the time you turned to look he had turned away again. You frowned lightly, wishing you could even slightly begin to figure him out. He was full of mystery and intrigue, mild mannered and polite. But he also seemed easily amused, and pretty extra if you were being completely honest. He was a hard guy to read; mind you, you had only known him a few hours. You had plenty of time to figure it out, right?

You entered a small entry way tunnel of sorts, footfalls echoing as you both approached what looked to be an open back alley in the city. Griffon launched himself from your shoulders, causing you to stumble again and huff. You rubbed the skin there, feeling scratches through the think fabric of your shirt. You didn’t mind Griffon perching, but damn. His claws really did hurt. V looked at you again as Griffon glided ahead of you both, and you were sure you saw his gaze linger on the shoulders you had just rubbed. Upon further inspection you realized there was slight red on the fabric of your shirt from where griffon scratched you.

“Griffon,” He spoke, eyes meeting yours before he glanced at the bird, “Gentler.”

“Whoops, Oops, my bad,” Griffon trilled as he rounded back, seeing what V meant as he swept past you, “ Girlie’s got fragile skin.”

You rolled your eyes, “I have normal skin, birdie,” You smiled again, looking at V as you said, “And don’t worry. I’m just happy he doesn’t outright dislike me.” You said that last part quieter, leaning toward V so only he could hear.

V chuckled, “Griffon is a simple creature. A mere bribe of food and he’s already on your side,” He tapped his cane along the concrete walls of the tunnel, the sound echoing hollowly in the space ahead of you, “As for you, Y/N...you don’t' really seem bothered by demons like Nero and the others.”

He was right, you weren’t. Sure, Demons were the enemy in this case and this scenario. But his companions were loyal to him, and in your travels, you had met plenty of kind demons and people who were labeled with bad stigmas. Making assumptions was bad, and you didn’t like doing that. Besides, neither of his creatures had threatened or wronged you—Griffon's taunting seemed harmless enough, and he was done with nicknames for the most part. As for Shadow, you were determined to get close enough to this cat to pet it, that's all you wanted. But V didn't need to know about that strange obsession of yours.

“I don’t make assumptions about people,” you replied, looking down at Shadow as it slinked along beside its master, “Kindness can exist in all manner of things, and your companions haven’t been outright unkind to me either. So why should I be unkind to them?” Empathy always came first before fighting—you much preferred making friends compared to outright hating literally everyone you met. Hell, some of the conflicts you had faced were resolved with just a little kindness and empathy. People would be surprised what you could accomplish if you just tried to help people.

V gave you a respectful nod at your response, a breeze traveling through the tunnel and sending his hair drifting slightly. You looked away, trying not to think about how nice that looked. 

Continuing forward, you and the group came out into the alleyway back into the sunlight. You looked around, seeing more debris and graffiti everywhere you looked. The hairs on the back of your neck started to stand up a little, foresight warning you something bad was about to occur if you kept walking. You held out a hand and grabbed V’s shoulder before you walked further, eyes scanning the area  warrily as that gentle breeze blew through again. Something was definitely here; you could tell that much. V looked at you, then looked around as well, gripping his cane tighter as Shadow growled and stepped forward, teeth bared and saliva dripping from its maw.

As soon as the cat entered the clearing, Demons began to appear, bubbling up from the ground and materializing into existence. The exit behind you was closed by tumbling rubble, and all other escapes blocked by...a shield of sorts? You stared in shock and confusion, sending what looked like red, magic veins and magic blocking any way out. This was a trap of sorts then. You and V exchanged a glance, and you were surprised to see he was incredibly calm, slightly bemused even. He walked forward slightly, your hand dropping from his shoulder as you warily waited to see what he would do.

Griffon swooped overhead, cackling as he said to V, “ Oooh , genius says ‘be careful’!  Yeah no shit, Shirley!  Ain’t that right, V?” he swooped past your head, causing your hair to blow in that direction as he  squawked , “I mean I know you’ve got girl wonder here now and all but you ARE still fragile, V! Wouldn’t take much to wipe you out in a sticky situation!”

You activated your Void power as he spoke, stepping up beside V as  te sensation burned through the veins of your hands. You and V exchanged a look, you offering a light smile as you told him, “I’ve got your back.”

He inclined his head, giving you a small nod and twirling that silver cane.

Griffon made a noise of pain at your words, swopping by again as he continued, “Yeah well I’m just sayin’ running away is okay. It’s always okay to run away if you two aren’t up to it!”

You rose a brow, knowing damn well running away wasn’t really an option with how these demons were looking. In theory, you could use your Void powers to grab them all and  yeet yourselves upward, over the shields and to somewhere safe. But these demons seemed easy enough. Squishy, one might say. The basic bitch of demons. You scrunched up your nose as one screeched at you, sending the stench of his breath your way. Yeah, that was definitely not your favorite thing.

On your left, V pulled out his book, opening it with one hand as he looked out at the demons with a half smile.

_ “He who desires but act not, breeds pestilence,” _ He read in that smooth tone, voice lilting and almost relaxing in the situation. He closed the book with a gentle thud, eyes tilting forward again as he inclined his head at the demons, “So it is written.”

You heard Griffon sigh, tone slightly exasperated as he landed on V’s outstretched arm, “Okay, Shakespear, just remember this,” He shook out his feathers, a low growl in his tone as he continued, "You and I like to exist, so get rid of those demons quick, 'cause killin' them ain't my shtick!" 

You stifled a laugh, watching as he flew forward toward the demons, wings glowing with a bright blue mixed within the dark feathers.

“ _I got your back,_ _‘cause_ _dyin_ _’ is whack!_ ” He finished his little improvised poem with a hefty cackle, Shadow stepping forward as well to punctuate it with a roar at the approaching creatures.

A second later, the battle began.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im hoping to get done a chapter a day...hopefully.

_ Chapter 3 _

Chaos burst forth in the next instant. Shadow attacking the demons in a flurry of spikes and claws, teeth sinking into a demon’s throat with a spurt of blood. Griffon cackled gleefully, flying to the nearest demon to level his own attacks. You found adrenaline pumping through your veins, tendrils whipping out to attach to the nearest demon and impale it through the chest. Several of the creatures started for you and V, who calmly strolled to the side with his eyes fixed on the spectacle. He pulled out his poetry book, hair blowing in the breeze as he dodged an attack from a distant demon, pointing his cane at the creature with an expression of cold glee. Shadow was on it in an instant, ripping at it with its attacks and bringing the demon to its knees. 

“ _ Pin him to the wall,”  _ V growled, darting over and quickly slamming the sharp end of his cane into the creature’s head, killing it instantly and causing it to disintegrate. You used a nearby building to swing around behind him, planting your heels in the face of a demon creeping up to attack the poet while he was distracted. It screamed in pain, swiping at your legs with a clawed hand. V’s cane whipped around in the next instant, impaling the creature’s hand and stabbing into its neck. A rush of air left your lungs as you stumbled back, skidding on your heels as the tendrils stabilized you. Holy shit. The demons were definitely fast, but there were moments where V was faster.

He took a few steps toward you, eyes tilted down to his book as he moved in a slow turn around his fighting companions, murmuring Poetry from his book as they attacked a third demon,  _ “To see the world in a grain of sand, and Heaven in a Wild Flower. Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand, And Eternity in an Hour.” _

Energy seemed to crackle ever so subtly in the air around him as he spoke, voice clear and smooth. He closed the book with one hand, dark green gaze passing over you as he teleported over to the third fallen demon, stabbing it right between the eyes before yanking his cane out with a twirl of his body. You found yourself fixed to the spot, both awed and amused as you witnessed how V fought. So different than Nero, but with a very similar dramatic flair. Both had a taste for being incredibly extra it would seem. V’s was just on a whole different spectrum. 

You thought you saw him smirk at you as he turned, pointing his cane at the two remaining demons with a command of, “ _ Slice them.”   _

Shadow and Griffon descended upon the creatures in seconds, breaking them down to nothing but crumpled husks. V had to land the killing blow on them as well—in fact it seemed his companions wouldn’t kill a single one. V had to end each one, finishing them off with a leap in the air and landing in a pirouette. You grinned a little at that, retracting your tendrils back and letting the energy calm down a bit. As soon as the final enemy was killed, whatever was blocking your paths disappeared, the breeze clear and your Foresight quiet once again. You looked around, watching the bodies slowly dissipate into the air as Griffon and Shadow settled down. V seemed pretty fucking capable on his own, if you were completely honest.  Sure he looked a bit skinny, but from what you could tell he and his companions didn’t really need your power.

Or so you thought. As you looked at V, you noticed him lean heavier on his cane. It was a subtle change; one you were sure you wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been looking for it. He griped the top of the cane until his knuckles were white, Hair shielding his face so you couldn’t see his expression. He straightened up a little bit a second later, turning with that same half smile he wore before and his dark green eyes meeting yours. You tried not to display your worry, finding yourself pretty concerned for his wellbeing. You didn’t know the nature of what was wrong, but you wanted to help people—it was in your nature. You were also hoping to become friends with the trio you had met so far, you wanted to be useful.

“You have quite the interesting power,” V commented, snapping your racing thoughts back to the present. You focused on him again, face heating a little when you realized you had probably been standing there staring like an idiot while you zoned out, “Your ability makes you fairly fast...I noticed tendrils appearing out of your person as well.”

You nodded, lifting a hand to summon some of the blue, feathery wisps of power to show him.

 “This is essentially what my abilities look like. They’re almost like super strong threads, they're pretty versatile ,” He came closer as you spoke, lifting his free hand to hover them over the tendrils. They gently wrapped around his fingers, so you took the opportunity to try and aid him a bit. Focusing your energy, you continued, “They can attach to anything, make things for me. They’re how I transfer energy too.”

He seemed mesmerized by them, curling his fingers as he enjoyed their gentle glow. You knew they felt soft to the touch, but they were razor sharp and hard as steel when needed. Born of  thr Void’s nothingness, its energy into physicality. The first time you used them, you remembered it burning you for days. You would vomit whale oil when you tried to extend—it took months of training to get used to it, and even longer to cultivate your own style and learn your limits.

But you couldn’t tell V that. Not now.

Instead, you let out a slow breath, focusing on the sharing of your power as you murmured, “ _ From the Void into you.” _

You felt the energy leave your body, traveling into V’s fingertips. He stared in a mixture of surprise and intrigue, watching as your energy traveled through his arm and disappeared into his body. He let out a slow breath when it did, flexing his fingertips and staring at them with his lips parted with intrigue. You hoped whatever was ailing him was at least lifted somewhat, retracting the tendrils and letting the energy inside simmer down. Adrenaline was your friend at that moment—All that time in the Void left you aching for a little excitement, it would seem. You felt practically bubbling with energy, ready to expend it on whatever necessary.

A moment paused between you and the taller male, him still looking at his fingers with an expression of curiosity. If you weren’t mistaken, his complexion had improved a bit too.

“How  _ fascinating _ ...” He breathed, meeting your gaze with a light smirk, “An interesting sensation to say the least.”

You rocked back on your heels, running a hand through your hair as you asked, “Feel any better?”

He paused again, glancing at you from underneath his lashes.

“...I do,” He replied, inclining his head to you in a grateful nod, “Thank you, Y/N.”

Ohhh dear. Something about hearing him say your name like that made your stomach do flips. You nodded back at him and turned away with a small smile, looking down the alleyway and trying to  will your heartbeat into slowing down. That was definitely the adrenaline, it wasn’t fading any time soon. You heard Griffon let out a strange trill, wings flapping as he swooped by you again, sending your hair waving in his residual air. He landed on your shoulders as before, gentler this time as you reached back to hold his feet steady. You heard him snicker in your ear, beak closer to that side of your head.

“ Ohhh someone was  lookin ’ _ starry _ eyed back there,” He breathed quietly at you, sounding heavily amused, “You okay girlie? Need some breathing room? A cold shower?”

You rolled your eyes at  him, tapping a finger on the side of his head as you replied, “Behave, Birdie.”

He snickered again, shaking out his feathers a bit as you turned back to look at V. He was putting his book back into his vest, back to his usual demeanor of eyes focused and that w ry smile on his face. Shadow shook out it pelt, letting out a low growl as it slid past you and V, sitting down nearby to lick its paw. You sighed, hating that the big cat was so standoffish to you , even after your food bribe. V was right, despite his gruff bullshit Griffon was a lot easier to win over. One piece of meat later and the bird was riding on your shoulder cawing in your ear. Mind you, that wasn’t a complaint. You were incredibly pleased to not have to fight with Griffon all the time.

“So,” You asked as you started to follow V forward again, still firmly grasping the bird by its talons as you walked, “This Dante guy, who is he?”

V turned into another alleyway, and as he did so you watched Shadow disintegrate as his  feet,  absorbing into V’s tattooed body. You stared in startled shock, worried for a second until you realized V's tattoos got darker with the action.  So he could take his little companions and have them inside his body? That was certainly interesting, but in retrospect it made sense considering you saw the panther pop out earlier when V summoned it. Still, it was jarring to watch for the first time up close. Not to mention your heavy disappointment when you realized there wouldn’t be a chance of you petting it while it was on its master’s body. 

Griffon, however, seemed perfectly content from his spot on your shoulders. You absentmindedly made another small scrap of meat, tossing it up to him to catch in his beak. He chirped eagerly when you did, the chomping sound pretty gnarly if you were being honest. 

V smirked again, hopping up over a piece of debris in your way as he replied, “Dante is a demon hunter, one that is a friend and acquaintance of Nero. I hired him to help...take care of  Urizen .”

Huh. You hopped over the rubble as well, surprised when Griffon helped you a bit. Though you were sure he was supposed to help his master with things like this.

“Everyone seems pretty worried about him,” You commented, conjuring up a granola bar in your other hand. It occurred to you in that moment that you and V had been walking for about two hours and maybe eating something would be a good idea. You summoned another, tapping his shoulder once to get his attention and hand it to him, "Here, you should eat something."

He stared at the  bar, eyebrow raised as he gently took it from you. By the expression on his face, you swore the thought of food had never occurred to him. He seemed pretty much human and humans had to eat. Unless he had a health condition of sort? But even then, he had to find nutrients somewhere, from something. There was a lot you didn’t understand about V, but you knew for energy and such food was a good way to go.

“I...” He said, hesitating a bit. You had never seen him hesitate before, “I don’t think this is necessary.”

You shrugged, taking a bite of your own and swallowing before replying, “I disagree. Food translates into energy V, and. ..well ...no offense... You look like you can use something to eat.” It was bothering you, his state of being. He walked and fought fine, but your foresight was just...tingling in your stomach where he was concerned. You felt like you had to worry, because no one else would.

Griffon chuckled heavily at your words, eyeing his master as he sneered, “That’s French for ‘you look like shit, V’.”

You sighed, “No that is not what I meant. At all.”

“That so?” Griffon’s tone held very heavy implications, “You got some sort of feeding fetish?”

You couldn’t help yourself. You laughed. 

It must have been pent up from you containing yourself, because as soon as Griffon’s taunt registered with you, laughter burst forth from you, shocking you and probably V as well. You let go of Griffon’s talons, resting your hands on your knees as you came to a stop for a few seconds. Griffon was having a good snicker from it himself, landing on your back as you caught your breath again. You found yourself oddly embarrassed for laughing, not wanting V to see your face as you calmed down a bit. Something about the joke he made was oddly familiar to you—You couldn’t place why. Probably another lost memory from your original life.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Griffon caroled with glee, wings flapping as you straightened, “A definite yes.”

“That’s a firm  _ no,”  _ You snickered, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, “I’m sorry for laughing—It's been a long time since something got me like that.” It had been a long time since you had a true, full bodied laugh.

You finally looked at V. He was watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite place—he was smiling, but the look in his eyes was curious and searching. You found your heart beating again, and this time you were pretty sure that wasn’t adrenaline.

“Please, don’t apologize,” He smirked, and much to your delight he took a bite of the food you gave him. He seemed to chew for a long moment, like he hadn’t eaten food in his entire god damn life, before finally swallowing, “Though I must admit. I am seeing quite the pattern with food and you.”

You huffed at that, crossing your arms over your chest as you replied, “I don’t have a feeding fetish,” You shrugged, adding in a playful tone, “I more so have a hand fetish over anything.”

V rose a single brow at that, “Do you?”

“No!” You laughed again, offering him a cheerful grin, “I swear. No kinks from me.” Yet.

He chuckled lightly, griping his cane and turning away again. You quickly followed along, eating the rest of your food before putting your hands out to grasp Griffon’s talons again. You kept your gaze half forward, half on V to make sure he ate the rest. It took some time, but he did eventually finish the bar. He held a thoughtful expression the whole time, chewing slowly and purposely. Externally, he seemed pretty pleased. You were certain that if he wasn’t supposed to eat it, he would have declined and explained at the start. Determination filled you now—you wanted to learn more about the people you traveled with, their mannerisms and who they were. V was a mystery waiting for you to discover, and in a way that was...exciting.

Your group continued on for another hour, walking through the city. You only stopped a couple more times to fight demons, taking down whatever stood in your path. You enjoyed being able to stretch your muscles and energy again—the time spent resting left your body itching for activity. As you fought, your stiffness disappeared, blood pumping with every kill and Void energy burning in your hands, your lungs, your stomach. With each battle you witnessed more and more of V’s personality shining through in battles. His taunts were...interesting to say the least. He was an absolute dork, you realized that. He almost seemed like he was having fun during battle, carrying a confidence and amusement into every encounter.

You learned where to act where he would not. Support, nothing else. Like his summons, you filled in the gaps where V lacked. You watched his back whenever necessary, helping pull him out of the way of incoming attacks with your tendrils. It shocked him the first time, but after the fourth or fifth fight he came to accept when it would happen. He was a bit reckless—his taunting and confidence would have definitely got him hurt had you not stepped in. But learning to fight with a group was...fun. V was like a maestro for you, Shadow, and Griffin. For every step he took, you and the others reacted. It was interesting to see Griffon lifting his master up occasionally to get him to safety, or how Shadow fought at V’s command. They were a well-oiled machine, and your foresight told you that was a good thing. You were on the right track.

Occasionally while traveling you would see Nero in his own fights in the distance. You exchanged a wave with him a couple times while V destroyed some  Qliphoth roots, you sitting on the edge of some metal steps as you watched Nero zip around in the distance. He taunted just as frequently, if not more, than V. His taunts were equally as silly, but on a whole other level. Where V had a low level extra, Nero was loud and boisterous extra. V was the goth theater kid who just couldn’t help himself, and Nero was young, dumb, and full of...well, you know.

Once V finished destroying the roots in your way, you stood again, stretching your arms above your head until your joints popped. Glancing at the sky, you calculated it was about six o'clock, soon to be seven. The sun was starting to set in the sky, casting a pink and orange hue on the land. You scanned the horizon line, seeing the occasional, small demon fly off in the distance. Not worth any time or effort. Besides, getting that far out was pretty much out of your way. Sighing, you rested your arms on the metal railing, thoughts drifting off again as you kept looking at the sky. You were sure it would have been beautiful if not for that ugly ass tree. It seemed so monumental, so impossible. You knew that wasn’t the case, otherwise the Deity wouldn’t have sent you. There was a solution, one within reach—all that mattered was getting to it.

V walked up beside you, his gaze scanning you from your right side as he wiped the remnants of the roots off his cane.

“As unfortunate as it may be, we should stop there for the night,” He pointed his cane to the left as he spoke in his silken tone, referencing what looked to be an abandoned warehouse past some shipping containers and a bridge, “Traveling at night is neither safe nor wise.”

You nodded, offering him an encouraging smile, “I’ve slept in worse places.”

A lot of your missions lead to you resting in whatever ways you could whenever you could. And considering a lot of those missions included people who didn’t really give a damn about you...There were several cases of you sleeping in less than savory locations. Not your favorite missions to be sure, the warehouse was a welcome change

He let out a low hum in response, tapping his cane on the ground as he started moving again. You were pleased to see Shadow staying out this time, walking behind its master with a mighty yawn. Griffon soared on ahead, circling those of you down below as you neared the ledge leading to the shipping containers.  You found yourself taking up the back again, contenting yourself with watching pretty boy’s hair drift in the breeze. You had already surveyed the area—there were  Qlipoth roots up ahead to destroy, coiled around the bridge and budding in the center. You were wary of those. The bridge looked on the verge of  collapse ; a stray wind could have toppled it.

 Regardless, that was the way to go. You crouched down, preparing to jump down from the shipping containers to the railroad tracks below. But your foresight stopped you, flaring up in your chest and lungs. You rubbed your chest, hissing lightly in pain and immediately sensing something was up even before you jumped down. You put your arm out to grab V, but he was already ahead, hopping down with zero hesitation. Pretty much throwing caution to the wind. Sure enough, as soon as his feet touched the ground, demons began to appear, one by one. You winced, hating their bulbous heads and spikey bodies as they all turned to shriek at V.

You immediately hopped down behind him, steeling yourself to fight when Griffon swooped by, cawing up a storm as he circled the two of you.

“Hey Shakespeare!” He quipped, sending clouds of dust up with each flap of his wings, “You haven’t even shown the girl Nightmare yet!”

Nightmare? What did he mean by that?  You heard V let out a light noise of agreement, tilting his head back to give you a light smirk.

“How rude of me,” He replied, turning back and snapping his fingers sharply. Energy crackled off of his body in the next instant, and much to your shock the black evaporated from his hair, leaving it a dazzling white.

A portal appeared above the fight, and from it a new creature burst forth. Made of swirling black energy, huge and  lunky . It fell from the portal and landed right on the demons, swinging a mighty club of an arm around at the creatures and sending them flying. You let out an impressed sound, already guessing this was another companion—already dubbed “Nightmare”. V walked around the battle again, cane in one hand and book in the other as he commanded at the creature to attack. You realized right away he was showing off—Nightmare was the definition of overkill. A laser shot out from his eye, leaving a trail of exploding destruction over the group of demons. One went flying past you, a quick side step to the left dodging its broken body. V was on it in the next instant, his body brushing past you as he darted to finish it off. You saw his face in that moment, finding yourself awed again as time seemed to slow.

White hair waving about his face, an elated grin tilting his lips. His eyes were open wide, reflecting the light of the dying sun so his gaze was like glittering Jade. He looked...elated, like he was heavily enjoying himself. Like a little boy discovering play for the first time, he darted past you, sinking his cane into the chest of the creature, ripping the object up and slashing it from crotch to torso. He paused in place, hand on his face as he began to slowly laugh, the sound starting low and rising in tempo. You blinked at the display, feeling entranced as he tilted his head up, still laughing as the creature disintegrated. You were pretty sure these actions should have disturbed or unnerved you but...you found they didn’t. Instead you found yourself even more intrigued, letting out a quiet, exasperated sigh at yourself.

Your foresight suddenly flared again, breaking you out of your musings. Your gaze jerked up, seeing three demons about to jump down and attack V while he was taunting. Your power was activated on the next instant, shooting along the ground to grab the idiotic goth and yank him away, simultaneously shooting up and impale the demons in several locations. V let out a light “ oof ” as you swung him around; you winced when you realized you might have snatched him too fast. He rolled a little when you released him, coming to a graceful slide on his knees a few feet away. Nightmare disappeared in the next instant, the remaining demons on that side already at death's door—V's hair returned to black, so you figured out pretty fast that was where nightmare had been hiding. Was V naturally white haired then? 

You shook your head. You had to focus on the battle. You knew V could handle the dying demons on that side, so you addressed the creatures still impaled by your tendrils, summoning the energy of the Void and holding out your hands to them. They really were ugly creatures, spitting maliciously at you, claws swiping at open air and teeth snapping. Akin to bugs, with spiny bulbous bodies. Unable to be reasoned with, unable to compromise.

“ _ From being, into Nothingness,”  _ You felt your hair rise slightly with this incantation, one of your stronger spells. If you were being honest, you were showing off a little bit yourself. The energy of the Void wrapped around the creatures, making them scream and squirm as it ate them away, sucking away their life force until husks remained—they crumbled then, disintegrating into nothingness as your tendrils retracted back into your body. You heard the final creature scream as V cut into it, turning in just enough time to see him spin, a trail of blood following his cane as he finished the creature off. Shadow and Griffon settled themselves, the bird flying over to you as the battle ended just as quickly as it had started.

“Hey girlie, wasn’t that neat?” He squawked as he landed on your shoulders, flapping wildly, “Nightmare fucking destroyed those bastards!” 

You smiled, walking forward as he contented himself with making you his perch again, “He was very cool, I’m just sad I didn’t get to say hello.”

V approached you, wiping off his cane as he did so. He was lightly smirking again, dark eyes down on his task as he said, “There will be more chances,” he pointed the silver cane at the bridge, tone light and breath slowing from the excitement of the battle as he said, “That is our last task for the night. Let us make haste.”

You opened your mouth to reply and agree, but it occurred to you that he sounded pretty out of breath. You observed him again, noticing easily how winded he was. He was back to leaning on the cane, and you thought you saw him sweat a little. Maybe taking out Nightmare cost him a lot of energy? You frowned, looking up at Griffon with a searching expression. You were starting to realize V was not the kind of person who would say if he was hurting, uncomfortable, or tired. He wouldn’t ask for help, so you had to decide to give it without being prompted. Griffon inclined his head, eyes darting to his master with a light nod as V started forward again. 

You walked up behind, summoning your tendrils to lightly wrap around him again. His steps faltered a little at the sensation, gaze darting to you with a startled expression as you summoned your energy and sent it into him with a light murmur of, “ _ From the Void into You.” _

You gave him a higher dose of energy, hearing him release a heavy breath as it fused with his being. Shadow sat at his feet as V’s eyes closed, breathing going even as you tried to ease his discomfort. At least...you hoped you were. If this wasn’t helping, you hoped V would say  _ something  _ at the very least. It didn’t hurt to try and do everything you could. After a few seconds you retracted the tendrils, letting the energy settle back inside as you flexed your fingers a bit. You weren’t reaching your limit per se, but the months in the Void left you able to take less of the strain. Like going months without stretching and working out, then jumping back into those activities.

“Better?” You asked him with a smile, rocking back on your heels a bit as he opened his eyes again.

He paused, mouth half open in a thoughtful expression as he turned to look at you. Almost like he was thinking about the question. He rolled his shoulders a little, flexing his hand that wasn’t holding the cane. He held his hand up in the light, a curious look on his face as he stared at his fingers. You noticed he wore a ring there, silver and glinting in the sun.

“Yes," He breathed, turning to look at you again with that wry smile you had grown used to, “You could tell I was fatigued.”

It wasn’t a question, but you still answered it, “Yeah. I’ve gotten good at reading people over the years,” You smiled playfully, taking a few steps past him as you replied, “Someone has to look out for you. You’re pretty reckless, you know that?”

He paused again, something about your words making his expression shift a bit. You stopped in place, blinking as you saw a couple different emotions drift on his face. Confusion was one of them, but the others...you weren’t sure. He settled on a faraway look for a second, jade eyes reflecting the sun as he looked to the side.

Had you said something wrong? Worried, you took a step toward him again and said, “V? Are you okay?” You hated the idea of saying anything upsetting to him.

His gaze snapped back to you, and you saw him smile again. Only this time the smile looked...relieved. And a little...vulnerable?

“Thank you, Y/N,” He murmured, green eyes meeting yours, “You are very kind, and the help is welcome and...needed.”

You nodded, smiling again but still finding yourself confused by his reaction, “You know you can always ask for help, right?” You griped Griffon’s talons, realizing he was actually being polite and keeping quiet during this conversation, “If you ever feel like you need my assistance, that’s what I’m  _ here  _ for.”

V let out a low hum, gave his cane a light spin as he brushed past you. He gave your shoulder a light squeeze, side eyeing you with that jade smirk.  


You wanted to call him a liar, but you knew that would be very rude. 

Luckily, Griffon did it for you.

“Liar!” He accused in his grating voice, flapping his wings a could times as his master removed his hand and continued to walk, “You’re way to stubborn to ask for shit!”

V smirked a bit at that, but kept walking. You and Griffon exchanged another look, both of you sighing lightly. You smiled exasperatedly, summoning another piece of red meat to toss up to him to eat. Then another, to toss to shadow, who rose to follow its master. Instead of ignoring it like you expected, the cat snatched it out of the air, turning as it chewed. Well, there was another little victory, right? You giggled quietly, jogging forward to catch up with the other two as they stepped onto the bridge, heading for the  Qliphoth root with intent to destroy. 

You tapped Griffon’s talons, gesturing for him to join his master as you stood off to the side, looking the root up and down. They were spiky and gnarled, writhing slightly as V spun his cane, approaching the bulbous bundle of red that you knew was its weak spot. You looked over the bridge, still pretty worried about its integrity, but knowing damn well you couldn’t just leave the root to grow and fester where it was. You quietly made your way to the side as V began to destroy the root, activating you power and prepared to act if something happened.

“Hey, V?” You warned as Shadow and Griffon smacked the bulb, “This bridge is pretty shaky—”

A loud rumble broke out as soon as the root was destroyed, disintegrating into nothingness. The bridge, as expected, began to shift and collapse underneath you and the others. Well, that root was the only thing that seemed to be holding the bridge up. You saw V slide a bit, griping onto his cane as the cart on the bridge began to slide. 

“V!” You wrapped your tendrils around him as he began to run, keeping pace with him as you both ran up the tilting bridge and leapt. Much to your shock, before you could activate your energy, you felt V’s hand grab your wrist as he jumped. Griffon appeared above him in the nest instant, grabbing V and lifting him and you up and above the debris as it crumbled into the water. You let out a shocked gasp as you were suddenly suspended in air, dangling by your wrist as V grunted and griped tighter. Too much weight, you could tell that right away. You hovered there for a few moments, Griffon huffing with the strain.

“God damn it!” He squawked as he started to descend, but you were still too high and not close enough to land, “Too heavy I can’t hold onto both of you!”

As he said so, his talons slipped off of V’s shoulders, Griffon releasing an alarmed shriek as you and V suddenly plummeted toward the ground, “ _ Son of a bitch!” _

You weren’t afraid—you knew you could handle it.

Summoning your power, you coursed the energy through yourself and the tendrils, pulling V closer as you closed your eyes. The tendrils shot out on all sides, connecting with the ground before you and V, creating a slide for you to land on and slip down. You felt one of his arms wrap around your waist, turning you both so he would take the first impact—luckily for him there would be no impact to feel. You let out a hiss, whispering out “ _ Feather fall!”  _ right before he hit the slide. The ability wouldn’t slow the descent, but it would mitigate any impact, pain, or damage the fall would cause. 

V hit the slide, you tucked against his side. You felt him press your head to his chest as you rolled a couple times, eventually skidding across the concrete to an ungraceful halt. You let out slow, relieved breath, feeling V’s even breath on you as you deactivated the power of the Void. That was almost pretty bad—Though you came to a realization right away as you and V sat up, him  gripiing one of your arms still as you shook off the shock of the fall. You were...very touch starved. The seconds of being held were nice, so nice that you mourned the contact the instant it was gone. Living the  life you did allowed for very little affection, if any. There were several missions  were you were told to assist then ignored by all those involved...like a puppet to be used, then abandoned.

But you couldn’t think about that, not right now.

Instead you let out a light laugh, meeting V’s gaze as you both caught your breath.

“V,” You said in a low voice, “Let’s both agree to plan before we do stuff like that again.” You could have easily saved yourself while Griffon saved him. Hell, you could have saved them both easy. But you didn’t want to be rude.

He let out a low hum, sitting back on his arms as he looked up at Griffon, who was descending and still cursing at both of you, “Agreed.”

You laughed again, earning a grin from the goth as Griffon came screeching down at both of you.

“ _ I  _ _ cant _ _ believe I fucking dropped you!”  _ He shrieked as he landed in front of you both, “Fuck! I thought I was going to have a heart attack! V you know I can only handle your weight, not saying Y/N is heavy or ‘ nothin ’ but FUCK that was the WORST!”

You let out another light chuckle, giving Griffon a pat on the head as you replied, “You’re doing great, sweetie. Just everyone  remember next time I can definitely handle a free fall.”

V let out a low chuckle, finally releasing you as he slowly rose to his feet. Shadow appeared from him once more, nervously circling your group and sniffing the ground. You looked V over, deciding he was no worse for wear and not hurt by the fall. It worked out pretty well, all things considered. V held out a hand to you as soon as you began to rise, one you grateful accepted as he helped put you to your feet. His hand was...warm. His skin felt soft, overly soft. He lingered for a moment before releasing you, turning away to look at the warehouse. You realized a second later...V didn’t have hair on his arms. The more you thought about it, he was pretty smooth all around. 

“Let’s not waste any more time,” He said, nodding toward the warehouse and giving you a kind smile, “It’s getting dark.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but were cut off by a wave of dizziness that suddenly hit you. That was certainly not good. You swayed a bit, tilting to the side as you heard the rush of wings and felt talons suddenly gripping your shoulders. Griffon aught you, holding you up before you hit the ground.

“Whoa  whoa there, girlie!” He squawked as you put a hand to your face, “You feelin’ alright?”

You didn’t look up, but heard V stop and turn, approaching you in the next instant.

“Y/N?” His tone was still low, but worried now. You heard him set his cane to the side, gripping your shoulders again, “Are you alright?”

His concern made you feel good; you’d admit that through the haze. You needed to recalibrate your limits--you must have been asleep in the Void for a long time. You had over extended a little bit--in all the excitement you hadn’t realized how close to your limits you actually were. Your stomach was rolling, nausea rising ever so slightly in you. Well, this might as well happen. You lifted your gaze, seeing V’s concerned expression as he tilted up your chin.

“You’re as pale as me,” he commented, smiling a little bit, “You said you had limits. I am going to assume you reached them."

You let out a weak laugh, surprised when Shadow weaved between the two of you, sitting on your feet and watching your face.

“I overestimated myself a bit,” You admitted, “It’s been a while since I had so much excitement. I’ll have to practice more to reach what I could before.”

V let out a low hum of understanding, “In time. For now, can you walk?”

You nodded, shaking off some of the lightheadedness as you replied, “Yeah, I can make it.”

He nodded, looking up at Griffon and commanding, “Make sure she doesn’t fall.”

“You’ve got it, boss.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something sweet for your sunday, a little more tender. Be aware this chapter has scenes involving anxiety and panic

_ Chapter 4 _

You made it to the warehouse without incident, Griffon perched and ready on your shoulders and V walking in step with you as you went. The building had long been cleared out, dust settling on the floors and a set of doors broken off its hinges. You realized with some surprise that it was getting a lot cooler outside now that night was falling, probably due to it being the earlier days of summer. It was probably around sixty degrees when your group made it in, searching for a good place to sit and rest your weary bones. You leaned against a pillar as V sent Shadow to search around, eyes wandering over to abandoned crates and pallets left behind. Luckily, there were none of those husk-corpses in here—you appreciated that. They were far too macabre for you to sit and sleep next to. 

You closed your eyes as you waited, passing the seconds by humming a light tune. You could feel V’s gaze on you occasionally—you didn’t have to look at him to tell he was still worried. He kept tapping his cane lightly, sometimes in rhythm with the song you hummed. Griffon was sitting on V’s shoulders now, keeping an eye on you regardless. You felt bad, he was supposed to look after his master and was spending more time worrying about you. Although V didn’t seem to mind, or at least he hadn’t said anything yet about it. You hoped it wasn’t secretly bothering him, or at least you hoped that if it  was, he’d say something and it could be worked through.

Regardless, Shadow came back moments later, announcing its presence with a low growl and a flick of its tail. V stood up from the pallets he found for you and he to sit on, holding out a hand to help you up again. Gratefully, you accepted it when lightheadedness hit you again. You would have summoned food to help, but that expended more energy. You would just have to rest and wait again, spend some time under the moon and recharge. The energy of the Void came back fairly quick, but after extending like you had your body had to repair some of the damage. You felt kind of bad, like you were holding back the group in some way. Mind you, the plan had already been to rest for the night, but you didn't like worrying others. 

Shadow lead your group into what looked to be an abandoned office of sorts. There was a desk with a long-forgotten laptop, a personal cot on the far side, half facing the door with two tables on their side.  There also seemed to be a mini fridge and what looked to be a coffee and snack station next to a utility closet. Much to your relief, there were a few candy bars and other things left behind to eat if hungry. As you sat down at the desk, V tested the light switch, letting out a soft noise of surprise when the lights still turned on. How this place still had power, you would never know—if you put any thought in you would have reasoned that there may have been backup generators or a remaining power grid still working somewhere. Instead, you tiredly laid your head on your arms, releasing a sigh now that you no longer had to stand.

Griffon landed on the desk next to your head, letting out a low snicker as you slowly looked at him, “ Ohh you’re looking like shit there, Girlie. Didn’t your daddy ever tell you to stretch before working out?”

You let out a low, neutral hum, tapping your fingers on the desk as you replied, “I don’t remember my parents, so let’s go with no.” Not a lie. After selling your soul, a lot of your old memories were taken to help you cope with trauma. You only got back random bits and pieces at intervals undecided by you. The Deity only let you remember what he felt was appropriate at any given moment. Honestly, it didn't bother you. Making new memories along the way, looking forward and not back. At least...that’s what you were trying to do.

Griffon let out a low whistle, fluttering his tail as he tilted his head at you, “Shit, you may be more depressing than Shakespeare over there, toots. Got any more skeletons in the closet? Ever kill a guy? Witness murder? Were you left on a doorstep at a ripe age of a day old?”

You rose a single brow, saying in an amused tone, “You’ve got quite the imagination on you, Griffon.”

He snickered lightly, which made you smile a bit through the exhaustion. You liked the banter you and the bird could share, now at least where it was on friendly terms. You thought you saw V smirk as well in his pursuit to get the utility closet open, seeming to grow ever so slightly frustrated. You watched with quiet interest as he gestured to Shadow, the creature extending a single spike forward to break the lock. You giggled a bit, looking away before he could see you entering your final level of tired. Which happened to be insanity. You were getting tired to the point you were getting giggly, pressing your face into your arms with a low groan at yourself. Sleep was definitely a need now, but you were trying to  will yourself to eat first.

Then there was the sleeping situation. There was a single cot in this room with one pillow. The idea of snuggling up to V after hanging out with him for a half a day wasn't the worst idea, but you didn’t want him to be uncomfortable. Intimacy with people you barely knew was kind of strange. And no matter how you tried to slice it, laying on a cot that small with a lanky man would be very up close and personal for knowing him for half a day. But there was that annoying, touch-starved part of your brain, aching for contact of any sort. You were pretty sure that wasn’t a good thing, considering your impulse control being what it was—mind you, your brain knew well enough not to touch people without permission. 

You were more so afraid of bursting into tears or something over small things. Or laughing fits.

“You should eat something,” V’s voice pulled you out of your musings, making your shoulders jerk as you looked up at him. He was still smiling, eyes dark in the dimly lit room as he tossed what looked to be a peanut bar at you, “You need to regain your strength in whatever way you can, right?”

You felt like he was mocking your food quotes from earlier. You frowned, eyeing the generic bar of food with skeptical eyes, “You should practice what you preach, pretty boy.”

Humoring you, he plucked another bar from the tray of snacks.  Like a good boy.

Brow raised, he very obediently took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. You fought another laugh that threatened to burst out, opening your own snack with a shake of your head. You hoped he knew you were going to eat no matter what, but you were glad he was at least complying with your demands and eating himself. You looked at Griffon apologetically as you chewed the sweet and salty treat, realizing for the time being you couldn’t conjure up any snacks for him and Shadow. Did they need to eat, or was it just for the sake of enjoying food? You were pretty unsure on that, but you reminded yourself to ask at another time that wasn't then. 

You saw Shadow come out of the closet with a spare pillow in its mouth, staring at you with glowing red eyes. You let out a sigh of relief, finishing the food quickly. A pillow was definitely good enough for you—You had slept on the floor before. You were starting to feel less fatigued already, but you were still so tired that you were sure as soon as your head hit that pillow you would be dead to the world. On the flipside, you were sad this room had everything but a god damn shower. That’s what you were aching for the most, the feeling of hot water and good shampoo. Especially considering fighting left you feeling a little  grimy and gross.

Giving Griffon’s beak a little pat, you stood up from the chair, stretching as far as your body would allow. The food was definitely helping, but sleep was a definite need. The dizziness was now gone, but the feeling of being stretched to o thin was not. Some sleep would definitely help with that.

 But much to your surprise, V was already taking the pillow from Shadow, putting it on the cot next to the already present one. You blinked, rubbing some of the tiredness from your eyes as he sat on the  simple bed, removing his sandals. You felt some strange surprise upon seeing him remove the things—for some reason you expected them to keep his shoes on. Even more weird, seeing his feet without them felt very scandalous. Further proof you were losing your mind. 

“V,” You yawned, deciding to go with the flow and sitting on the other side of the cot to remove your own shoes, “Why do you wear sandals?”

He seemed amused by the question, tilting his head back to level his jade eyes at you as he replied, “Is that your foot fetish speaking?”

You huffed at that, crossing your arms over your chest, “It was a hand fetish, get it right.” 

“Ah yes, a hand fetish,” He chuckled at your response, lifting a hand so he could wiggle his fingers a bit. The action sent his ring glinting in the low light, seeming almost mesmerizing in your tired state, “And I apologize—I don’t wear the sandals for any particular reason.”

You let out a low, tired hum, pulling off a combat boot and tossing it to the other side of the room unceremoniously. You would keep the thigh highs on at least, since they covered your feet and kept them warm. Then again, you had slept in those boots before too.

“Do my questions bother you?” You asked, yawning again as you again debated where to finally lie yourself down. You’d spoon with the goth if he was cool with it, but guessing by Griffon’s taunts and jibes there would be no chance of not being made fun of the next day. Speaking of the bird, he was watching you both from across the room, eyes ever intent and filled with mirth. Like he was watching a play and the climax was about to unfold. You tried not to focus on him, instead waiting for V to answer your question. 

  “I don’t believe I said that,” V replied in a low murmur, almost sultry, leaning back on his side and facing the door in one fluid motion, “More questions can be asked...tomorrow. For now, you can use some rest.” 

Your mind went racing at the implications of his actions, but out of your mouth came, “Aww no sweet poetry to help me slumber? No bed time stories?” You didn't particularly care if he actually did, your brain was just desperate to come up with something witty.  


He let out another low chuckle, hand sliding off the cot to pick his book off the floor, "Lie down and maybe we can compromise." His tone was so soft and lilting, coaxing and suggestive at the same time. How were you supposed to ignore a request like that?

 His wiry frame took up exactly half of the cot, feet hanging off the edge slightly. His pretty black hair sure was a stark contrast to the pillow, and something about the sight of it sent your heart racing like a caged bird. You were a complete idiot, an easily excitable idiot. You didn’t want to make anything uncomfortable, but V seemed fine with the situation--either that or he was oblivious to it. You found yourself smiling, deciding to just go with the flow. Both of you seemed to be way to stubborn to ask the other about the sleeping situation, and if he was fine by it then so  were you. The idea of him reading sweet poetry while you both shared a bed...maybe that was your true kink.

 Willing your heartbeat to slow, you stretched once more, leaning to the side so your head hit the pillow of the cot. A sigh left you as soon as your face touched the cool fabric, tired body fully relieved now that you were horizontal. The energy of the Void settled to a low rumble, body instinctively curling up a bit as you wrapped your arms under the pillow. Thus, began recovery time, which you were desperately trying to focus on. That was short lived, considering any movement lead you to touching the goth behind you. Your back aligned with V’s as soon as you did, you immediately taking a deep breath to stop yourself from jerking away in surprise. Focus on sleep now, focus on feeling nervous at another time. 

You thought you head V let out a slow breath, his back relaxing ever so slightly against yours as the quiet seconds began to tick by. He flipped to a page in his book, a low hum coming from his mouth as he decided on what to read. 

When he spoke, his voice was soft and sultry, soothing to you in small space. 

_ “ _ _ Oft when the summer sleeps among the trees, _

_  Whispering faint murmurs to the scanty breeze,  _

_ I walk the village round; if at her side  _

_ A youth doth walk in stolen joy and pride—” _

You recognized this poem. It was the same one he was speaking when you first saw him earlier in the day. It also ignited an older memory in you, one that made your body relax gently and eyes close.  A memory of the sun flitting though bright green tree branches, of flower petals falling from blooming buds. Of laughter, the only laughter you could remember from that time.  Sleep was already gripping you, heavy and heady as the Void’s embrace. Still V continued to quietly read, voice melodic and smooth.

_ “ _ _ I curse my stars in bitter grief and woe,  _

_ That made my love so high and me so low.” _

You thought you heard Griffon chuckle very quietly, settling himself on the desk to rest for the night. The soft padding of Shadow’s feet followed, stopping near the door. You were sure if you looked, you’d see the big cat curled up to make sure no one and nothing came through. The guard for the night, one you were sure no one would mess with. In that moment you felt very safe and content, toes curling into the cot and letting the sleep V was bringing  slowly starting to take you over.

But as you fell asleep, your subconscious mind realized so many things. Things you were sure you’d feel things about upon waking, if you could remember them.

Had you put any thought into it, you would have realized V made sure earlier to put himself in harm's way to protect you. 

“ _ O should she  _ _ e'er _ _ prove false, his limbs I'd tear—” _

Had you put thought into it, you would have realized he tried to put himself before you so you wouldn’t have to take the brunt of hitting the ground. 

_ “ _ _ And throw all pity on the burning air—” _

You would have realized he put himself on that side of the cot so he was facing the door—insuring that if anything burst through the door to attack, he’d get hit first, and not you.

_ “ _ _ I'd curse bright fortune for my mixed lot—” _

 Had you put any thought into it, you would have realized he was just as lonely, touch-starved, and tired as you.

_ “ _ _ And then I'd die in peace, and be forgot.” _

But instead, sleep claimed you.

~~~

(V’s POV)

When he finished the final line of his poem, he could tell you  were already asleep. 

Your breathing was slow and even behind him, shoulders brushing his with each breath. He turned slightly to look at you, making sure not to jostle the  cot too much. You made very little sound during sleep, pale blonde hair spilling over the pillow in a sharp contrast to the black of his own. Like Ivory over ebony. V released a breath, closing the book quietly and setting it on the floor next to the cot. He found himself oddly content, and he couldn’t quite place why. He had known you for half a day, hours at most. Yet you already felt like you belonged to their little group, like a missing puzzle piece he wasn’t aware was missing. He pressed a hand to his head, thoughts drifting as he went over all that had happened.

For once in the past month, he had felt...relieved. Energized. Like he was...complete. Whenever you shared your energy with him, it removed so many layers of pain. He could never bring himself to ask you for it, especially after knowing you for such a short time. But you seemed happy, downright eager to help, to relieve his pain, to worry about him. No one had done that for him before, not in any of his memories.

 The image of you, smiling and saying you would look out for him, left a hollow feeling in his chest. He closed his eyes, the realization of how much he craved in reality a heavy burden. The years of neglect had caught up with him, and even he wasn’t aware of the extent until now. No one ever worried if he was in pain, fatigued, or unhappy before. He was unsure how to handle it, what to do or say. Even before you shared your energy, there was something about you that made him feel incredibly light—you brought an optimism to an otherwise dismal situation, one he had been content with dealing with alone...until now.

Yet there was an uncertainty there. Until that moment, he had been driven in his task. Focused, yearning for the deed to be done. You, in just a day, made him forget for brief moments what he was meant to do. His focus waned, his inner torment forgotten in brief spurts of laughter, sometimes joy. The task still remained despite the small moments of peace; he knew that without doubt. The levity remained, and that was always important. But...how was he supposed to react when being around you made him feel...

He couldn’t think about that. But was he not allowed to find happiness wherever he could get it? He squeezed a hand to his chest at the thought, hating himself and all the thought implied. To do what he wished and still remain on the task...It didn’t just involve him anymore, not just his happiness. And that wasn’t fair.

He wasn’t sure what to do.

As if sensing his thoughts, Griffon let out a low snicker, causing V to open his eyes once more.

“ Ohhh but you’ve got it  _ bad  _ too,  dontcha lover boy?” He mused, sounding absolutely delighted, “You two have spent less than a day  together, mere fucking hours, and look at how bad you are. Honestly what am I going to do with you?”

V tilted his gaze, a half smile on his lips as he replied, “You’re very  presumptuous , Griffon.” He was, unfortunately, right about V. But as for you...he shouldn’t assume your kindness translated into attraction. And neither should V.

Griffon scoffed, shaking out his feathers as he flung back, “Don’t give me that bullshit, V. I know you too well, remember that,” He pointed a talon at your sleeping figure, eyes glinting the light in the room as he purred smugly, “You’re like a little boy with his first crush. Didn’t take you for the hopeless romantic type.”

“Griffon.” V’s voice held slight warning, eyes narrowing a bit on the bird.

“Loosen the jock strap, lover boy,” Griffon snickered, “Just pointing out the obvious. Why not go for it? Trust me my special eyes see all, I'd definitely be your wing man.” He let out a low chortle at his own joke, one that made V internally sigh. 

“ _ You know why.”  _ V replied simply, not elaborating or explaining. He didn’t have to—Griffon knew damn well what he meant. 

That made the bird pause, a few blessedly quiet moments ticking by while he thought over what V said.

“Well shit, if it's meant to happen it’ll happen, right?” Griffon finally spoke, voice very matter-of-fact, “Fate and all that sappy shit. No use fighting it, or avoiding it. That garbage just makes it worse.”

V let out a quiet laugh, determined not to wake you.

“Why,  _ Griffon, _ ” He said in mock surprised, “I didn’t take you for a believer of fate.”

The bird responded with a mere snort, head rolling back a little bit as he huffed, “Not really, but I do believe in humans and their stupid fucking chemistry. And hormones. If your bits are compatible with her bits then there’s no use running from—”

“ _ Griffon.”  _ V’s tone implied violence if the demon didn’t end that line of thought where it started. He definitely couldn’t think about that in that moment.

Griffon let out an amused hum, eyes practically twinkling with delight.

“Are you blushing, Shakespeare? I think you are,” He immediately backed down when V raised his book threateningly, with intent to throw, “Alright  alright , jeez. Don’t get your panties in a twist there. I’m just spitting the truth at you, mister poet."

V closed his eyes again, trying to focus on sleep as he replied, “Our only truth is the task at hand, and the burden of completing it.” His thoughts could wait, the wondering could wait. In a way, what Griffon spoke was true. If things were meant to happen, they would—he knew there was no fighting that. That aching sense of grief he carried wouldn’t go away, like he was mourning something already that he hadn’t yet lost. He focused on the sound of you breathing again, trying to align his own breaths with yours. Griffon let out another low chuckle, almost akin to a sigh, and reached out with a claw to turn off the lights. Now in the dark and calm, V tried to  will himself into a peaceful sleep, despite knowing he hadn’t had one in a long, long time.

And for once, he just might get one.

~~~

(Your POV)

_ “Pain is a  _ _ reminder, _ _ one you should heed.” _

_ Agony filled your lungs, filling you to the brim. You writhed, breathing glass shards that ripped apart your throat all the way down your chest. Your screaming made no sound, hands clawing at nothingness. Everything was nothingness. Your eyes saw the dark, skin so cold and body so numb. And yet you still felt pain, you felt it everywhere. You drifted in a sea of burning sand, and the sand was eating you alive. You hadn’t felt this pain a single day in your mortal life, not this physically. But somehow, this pain was welcome. Stripping away your torment, your memories, replacing it with fire and ash. And the cold, so very cold.  _

_ His hands held your face, though you couldn’t see him. His breath smelled of the dark, of all the icy nothingness. You could feel it from everywhere. His nails dug into your skin, but his voice was so gentle.  _

_ “Little sparrow, destined to sample the fruits of happiness,” He  _ _ whispered in _ _ your ears, inside your head, your soul, “And to never be full of them.” _

_ They took your happiness. It never stayed. It was always taken away. _

_ You screamed silently again when the burn flared more, razing you to ash. Surely you were burning, this cold fire was burning you. You felt his hands on your neck, on your legs, on your arms. Each part of you touched was another part scorched. Razors cutting out from your own skin, yet you felt no blood. Your bones never broke, but throbbed with agony. You couldn’t remember anymore, didn’t want to remember anymore. _

_ “Pain is a reminder that you are alive,” He whispered again, voice all that reached you in the sea of torment, “A reminder of the gift I have given you.” _

_ You thrashed in his hands, wailing with fear and grief. Grief that had no weight, no meaning, no purpose. You couldn’t remember what you were mourning, but that grief was there. You wanted to be a clean slate. You decided on this pain, it was yours to keep—the truth, and an escape from that mortal pain. _

_ This was your choice. _

_ After all choices had been taken from you. _

_ His lips brushed your ear, whispering those forsaken words to you, “You are overflowing with emotions in a glass to full.” _

_ Were you? You could hardly remember anymore, couldn’t remember feeling pain twice as much, the loss twice as much, the ache twice as much. _

_ “To fix you, I will remove your excess, and make the glass bigger.” _

_ If your fate was only ever taste happiness, then have it snatched away, you would go kicking and screaming into the night. You accepted the pain and the burn, hands curling into fists as you let yourself submit. You were a mold meant to be shaped, a blank canvas to be painted on, a lost soul to be saved. A soul to be sold, damned in servitude for a taste of some ironic freedom from fate. _

_ Eyes wide and staring, crying tears that refused to be shed, you stared into the Void. _

_  And it stared back. _

You awoke from your dream with a heavy gasp, one you immediately stifled with your own hands.

Your breaths were heaving in panic, eyes wide and searching the dark room as you sat up from the cot. It was still night. It was the same room you fell asleep in. You were safe. 

You desperately tried to  will your breaths to slow, hands shaking as you brought them down from your mouth. The panic had begun to make them go numb, prickling like needles were gently piercing your skin. You had to calm down, it was just a dream. A long, broken memory from the past—something worth forgetting. You leaned forward and rested your head in your hands, wishing you knew what time it was in the night at the very least. A brief glance at V confirmed he was still asleep, and you thanked god for that at least. You tried to focus on grounding yourself in reality again, counting breaths, griping the cot so hard it hurt. Pain would remind you that you were awake. 

_ Pain is a reminder that you are alive. _

You squeezed your eyes shut, desperate not to cry because you knew once it started you wouldn’t be able to stop. It had been a while since you had a dream like that, since you relived that memory. Of when you died, and were found in the Void. When he chose you, and gave you the gift of his “Blessing.” That was such a long time ago, something you were determined to bury and move on from. But it always returned, and always when you least expected it. Sending you spiraling back into vulnerability, into panic and anxiety. It was not welcome.

It was never welcome. But it always reminded you.

As you sat and tried to calm the racing panic, you heard the soft, familiar pap of footsteps. Shadow, you realized right away. You heard them approaching you, then saw their glowing eyes and pelt a moment later. You held your shaking hands in your lap, trying to calm yourself as they watched you with unblinking eyes and tail swishing back and forth. Barely visible in the dark, but you could see it. You couldn't focus on them in that moment, with each passing second the panic from your dream threatened to come back. You closed your eyes again, feeling tears burn and threatening to spill. You couldn’t cry, you refused. A sob was stuck in your throat, clawing for release, but you couldn’t wake up V. You wanted him to think you were strong. You wanted to be useful to him. Your nails dug into your wrist so hard you were sure you bled, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

_ Pain is a reminder.  _

Just as you were afraid of breaking down, on the very cusp of bursting into  tears, something surprised you. 

You heard the soft footfalls of Shadow drawing closer again, and a second later felt their breath on your fingers. Your eyes opened, a couple stray tears tracking down your cheeks as you met Shadow's gaze, the mighty beast letting out a soft noise at you as it leaned its head forward and let it plop softly onto your lap. 

You felt your breath catch in surprise, shaking hands stopping in their p ursuit to hurt yourself and instead gently cupping the cat’s head, stroking over the soft feeling of its fur and ears. Shadow released a low huff, closing its eyes as you found your comfort in that moment. The feeling of its fur, the warmth it gave, and the solidity of its weight on your lap was enough to slowly start grounding you in reality. A soft smile formed on your lips, eyes have closed as you stroked Shadow’s snout to their ears, finding that satisfaction you had been craving all day with the cat. Strangely enough, you were glad they caved now, in this moment, right when you needed it most. A little joy, a little victory, made real and easy to cherish. Your heart rate began to slow, pain in your chest easing, and the shaking in your hands finally ceasing entirely.

As soon as the shaking left, Shadow began to purr. A low, deep rumble of sound as the cat rubbed its mighty head into your hands. You could have almost cried of happiness then, scratching both sides of its head and letting out a pleased sigh. This was a perfect way to forget, to remind you of what moment you were in. With Shadow’s help, the lingering dream settled to a dull roar, mind trying to focus on the soft feeling of Shadow’s fur. 

You heard the soft flap of wings a second later, the bed shifting slightly when the bird landed to your left. He was more visible in the dark, glowing with a light blue along his wings and beak. His eyes landed on you as well, voice uncharacteristically quiet in the small space, a welcome thing in that moment of vulnerability. You felt bad though—you hoped you hadn’t woken him up.

“You okay, girlie?” He whispered, tapping your shoulder with his beak.

You nodded at his question, continuing to stroke the panther’s head resting in your lap. Griffon’s concern was welcoming, and only sought to warm you  further from the cold of the Void.

“I’m okay,” “You whispered back, quickly looking behind you to confirm V was still asleep. He looked...peaceful. And soft. Lips slightly parted, hair draping over his face and usual smiling expression gone. Replaced with a gentle expression of rest. You looked away before you lost yourself, letting out a slow, relieved breath as you  continued , “It was a nightmare. That’s all.”

 You were okay. You had to be. You had to be strong.

You heard Griffon shuffle closer, letting out a very quiet trill as he looked at Shadow  indulging themselves quietly.

“Look who’s finally turned around,” He snickered, earning him a  grunt from the mighty beast, “About time. And don’t mind Shakespeare, toots. He’s sleeping like the dead, probably  ‘cause the dumb bastard never actually takes consistent, normal rests.”

You found yourself smiling in the dark at Griffon’s mocking. Somehow, it was just as comforting as Shadow’s purring. 

“I'm glad he’s resting,” You murmured, “He deserves rest.”

“So do you, girlie,” Griffon countered, leaning down and resting his head on your arm, “Go back to sleep. Don’t be a dumbass like the poet, I can’t deal with two dumbasses.”

You shook your head, but still yawned despite your best efforts. You were fucking exhausted; you couldn’t deny that. But you were scared of going back to sleep, scared of dreaming like that again. Although, in your experience, those things never happened in twos—you didn’t want to take that chance. Still, you could feel the exhaustion still there, your energy only half replenished by your short rest. If you stayed up, you’d be tired when you needed to be focused the next day. You couldn’t risk that either. Fear and necessity were splitting you in two, and you hated that quite a bit.

Griffon seemed to sense your racing thoughts, letting out an exasperated sigh as he shook out his feathers.

“How about this, toots?” He said in a tone that implied annoyance, but without any heat, “Me and the overgrown house cat will stay with you, how about that?”

You found yourself smiling again despite yourself, continuing to stroke  Shadow's fur with both hands.

“This cot is pretty small,” Your voice sounded tiny, vulnerable. There was no hiding how much you actually wanted that to happen when you were that god damn obvious, “We can’t wake up V.”

Griffon scoffed, nudging your elbow with his beak, "We'll make it work. Now lie your ass down before I start squawking up and storm and  _ purposely wake pretty boy up,  _ see what he says.”

You couldn’t really argue with a threat like that, letting out a light sigh. 

Carefully, as not to jostle the cot, you lied back down, resting your head on the cool pillow. Shadow immediately huffed, hoping up on the bed right between your legs. You curled up a leg, letting the mighty cat rest its front half there on your thigh as the other half of its body curled around your feet and V’s. Its head snuffed in between your arms, beginning to purr again when you cradled them to your chest. They rolled onto their back a bit, paws curled against their chest akin to a normal house cat. They were so soft, so warm, and so very welcome. Sure, the bed was cramped, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Griffon contented himself with curling up on the pillow over your head. Beak resting by your face, tail wrapping around the top of V’s head. He let out a quiet, exasperated huff, wings tucked comfortably against his side as he watched you close your eyes, comfortable and contented. Your touch-starved, affection craving body had never been so relieved. The big cat cradled against your front, V back to back with you, and Griffon tucked against your head. If you thought you felt safe before, you felt downright invincible now. Protected, for once in your life, and happy enough that sleep could start to claim you again. V breathing behind you, Griffon above you, and Shadow purring below made a comforting chorus for your ears, washing away any traces of that dream and forcing restfulness.

As your concentration drifted again, you thought you heard Griffon sigh happily, mumbling without any anger.

“What am I  gonna do with you two  _ idiots? _ ”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im sorry...cutting back on the Nidhogg hatchlings cause i hate them lmao

_ Chapter 5 _

 The morning dawned calm and warm.

The sun was shining through a window in the office, creating striped patterns on the floor.  The room was a little stuffy, but comfortable regardless of that. How long had you slept? Your power was now fully returned, swirling in your stomach leisurely and calmly. No more exhaustion. You let out a light sigh, willing yourself to wake up and face reality. You found yourself incredibly snug and lethargic, head tucked into a pillow as your eyes blinked open slowly. What time was it? The events of the night were sill apparent to you, but foggy—you knew were you were at least, and that’s what was important. You groggily lifted your head and upon doing so realized just exactly why you felt so god damn snug. 

You saw V first, face illuminated by the sun streaming through the window panes. His hair had a light, beautiful sheen, lashes looking incredibly pretty in the light. He looked so peaceful—you couldn’t bring yourself to wake him. Pretty boy deserved as much rest as he could get. Instead you slowly sat up, hearing a light squawk of complaint from behind you as you did so. Turning, you saw Griffon half flopped on your pillow, blinking his own eyes open a couple of times to squint at you tiredly. You immediately smiled, putting a finger to your lips to quiet him. He was definitely at the top of the list of people who wouldn’t hesitate to wake up V, but you could at least try.

As he yawned, you looked down to your legs, seeing Shadow curled between yours and V’s, still asleep and basking in the sun. They looked so pleased, you didn’t want to wake them either—yet you still reached a hand out, giving their head a light stroke. Their fur was warmed by the sunlight's glow, ears immediately flicking a little. The mighty cat yawned, a light trill leaving them as they opened their eyes to slowly blink at you. Precious, so precious. Gratitude for the cat and bird filled you as you remembered the night’s events. Somewhat embarrassed, but happy nonetheless. Shadow seemed warmed up to you now, and that was relieving more than anything else. You smiled at them, feeling pretty happy with the morning’s events.

Despite your best efforts, you heard V stirring at your side, a light sigh leaving his as he also began to wake up. You looked at him, feeling a light smile on your lips as you saw him blink his eyes against the bright sun, lifting a hand as a shield. He looked pretty well rested; all things considered. Though you could tell he definitely wasn’t a morning person. He pressed a hand to his face, closing his eyes again as he took a few deep breathes. Griffon lifted his head, yawning as he shook out his tail feathers. As he did so you saw V’s expression shift, that light smile playing on the edge of his lips as several things seemed to register with him.

First was probably that the bed was significantly more cramped than before. 

“Tell me,” He murmured, tone still rich with sleep as he opened one eye to stare at you—he looked amused, if somewhat exasperated, “How on earth did everyone end up on this bed?”

You shrugged despite knowing the answer, giving Shadow’s ears a light scratch when the big cat yawned.

“By all accounts it doesn’t make any sense,” You replied innocently, so innocent a halo should have appeared over your head, “Maybe they were lonely.”

The less the lanky goth knew, the better.

“Mmm.” V hummed in response, sitting up slowly and rolling his head on his shoulders. Christ, that action alone looked pretty sensual, graceful in a way. You turned away before you were caught staring, letting out a yawn yourself and stretching with a light sound of delight. You felt downright wonderful. The evening’s nightmares were long gone in your mind, and your Void power was fully replenished and up to standards again. You stood up from the bed, cracking your back a little as you surveyed the room. Nothing seemed to bother you in the night, and everyone was no worse for wear. Minus the little issue of your nightmare, things were pretty damn normal.

Griffon yawned loudly, flapping his wings wildly as he squawked, “Glad you two are finally up and at ‘em!” He flew around the room a bit, finally landing on your shoulders as he pestered, “How are ya’ feelin’ toots? Ya feelin’ alright? Not dyin’ anymore?”

You huffed at that, “I wasn’t dying to begin with, Griffon. But yes. I’m fine.” You summoned some meat as you spoke, tossing it to the bird and one the cat. Both eagerly ate, seeming pretty pleased with your offerings. You heard V chuckle lightly, catching the back end of his smirk as he stood up from the cot, rolling his shoulders and stretching as well. The patterns on his back rippled with the movement, only slight muscle definition there.  All things considered, sharing a bed with the poet had gone pretty well—you weren’t as bothered by it as you previously  assumed you’d be. And you were SUPER pleased that Shadow now seemed to like you, the cat weaving around your feet as you made your way to the counter with the food, sitting your butt on there while you munched on some food. 

Shadow placed its head on your lap again, making your heart go crazy with delight and tears prickled your eyes as you heard them purr again. Holy shit, you were pretty sure you had never felt that happy in your life. Setting the food down, you cupped the cat’s face, squeezing its cheeks slightly as you smiled with absolute delight at the creature. Much to your even  _ heavier  _ delight, the cat grunted at the action, rewarding you with a small  blep of its tongue sticking out. You couldn’t help it—your eyes teared up more with joy, a small giggle leaving you as you leaned down to kiss the cats head. This was definitely heaven, a reward, a  _ big  _ victory. This happiness could sustain you for a  millennia , you were sure.

You heard Griffon let out a scoff of annoyance, probably watching you lose your mind over this cat that could probably eat you if it so desired.

“I cannot believe this shit” He squawked, tilting his beak toward the poet as he rolled his eyes, “V, are you seeing this? Are you witnessing this? Look at her over there, smooching your glorified killing machine. Absolutely tickled pink.”

You heard V chuckle, tapping the head of his cane in his hand as he mused, "What I cannot believe is she won you both over faster than even I. I’m pretty sure Shadow likes her more than me.”

You looked up from your self-indulgent task, grinning despite their mocking.

“Jealous, lads?” You rose a brow, smile as innocent as an angel. 

V only smiled wryly in response, gaze light and filled with mirth as he two grabbed a bar from the tray. His cane brushed your leg, sending a slight shiver up your spine as he turned away. You were even more jazzed—you didn’t have to remind him to eat this time, he did it of his own volition. Today was the day of victories, so you decided to keep count. Waking up feeling good, waking up in a bed of wonderful creatures, gaining Shadow’s affections, and now V starting a habit of eating when he should. It was going to, hopefully, be a good day.

Griffon,  however, puffed up his feathers, tone very standoffish as he replied, “Hard to be jealous of a glorified house cat. You done sucking up yet? We’ve got shit to do today.” 

You laughed, but nodded, nudging the cat off your lap as its master leaned against a wall to carefully ear his breakfast. He had already put on his sandals from the look of it, so you quickly sat down on the cot to tie your combat boots and adjust your thigh highs. You mumbled a light spell on yourself to make sure you were clean, still mourning that there was no shower. Maybe there was another house or apartment that still had running water? You would have to check at some point, if V allowed it.

It was cooler out from what you could tell, but there appeared to be clouds on the horizon threatening the sun. You frowned at them briefly before walking to the utility closet, seeing if there was anything in there worth taking with your group. After a small search, you found what appeared to be a personal locker for whoever owned the office. Inside it contained a small backpack, a picture of  a beautiful woman and a dog. The thought of that person being dead and gone threatened to make your heart ache, so you tried not to think about it. You took the bag and quickly closed it, walking out to the group again as everyone situated themselves.

“I’m going to take whatever good and water I can find with us,” You informed, opening the mini fridge and taking the few bottles of water you could find in there, “The less I have to summon, the better.”

V nodded, watching as you filled the bag with what you could find and leaning on his cane, “That may be wise. Will that hinder you?” 

You shook your head, pulling the bag’s straps over your shoulders and mumbling a spell.

_ “From reality, into the Void.” _

The bag dissolved into you in a low, faint glow, disappearing from view. You saw V raise a brow as you rolled your shoulders, no longer feeling the bag’s weight. The spell was similar to the organic material one, only in this case you couldn’t replicate the bag and what was within. You could take it into you, and retrieve it when needed, but that was about it. And retrieving it cost no energy, since you didn’t have to expend energy to make anything.

“Impressive,” V commented, eyeing your body with light curiosity, “Your ability is quite  versatile .”

You smiled, “It’s taken a while to get used to it.” You couldn’t elaborate on how long. 

Griffon landed on your shoulders before V could reply, flapping wings sending papers flying up from the desk as he squawked, “Chit chat later, kids, daddy’s getting impatient! We’ve got demon to fry!”

You and V exchanged a glace, V letting out a light hum of amusement as he gestured toward the door with his cane. You eagerly followed after the goth man, ready to leave the warehouse and move on. Shadow padded out closely behind, rubbing past your legs then V’s as they took up the front of the group. You took up walking next to V, a pep in your step as you made your way through the warehouse. You hadn’t gotten a good look at it the night before, and saw several shelves of materials as you passed through. It also looked like some of the roots had broken through the building as well, just narrowly missing the small office space. You were grateful of that.

The warehouse unfortunately had some areas of demonic activity, which your group set about killing as you traveled downward through. Nothing too difficult, just the occasional basic bitch demon batch. You could sense V half keeping his gaze on you as you fought, probably making sure you weren’t over-extending. You knew better now—you had to focus, taking up similar tactics to when you trained in the Void. Small energy bursts, consistency. Letting the energy course through your body for longer without expending any. The sensation was slightly painful, but you’d rather walk and fight through pain than hinder the group by being useless. 

You were back in the city within an hour, walking past various buildings with graffiti and artwork. You whistled at the sight of a beautiful mural of a woman, feeling a bit wistful that you wouldn’t really get to enjoy what this city had to offer before the calamity started. Even then, your enjoyment of the mural was short lived as well considering as soon as you neared this new street corner, your Foresight flared, alerting you enemies were at risk of appearing.  Because of course they were. Annoyance was starting to fill you at this fact, a sigh leaving your lungs. It felt like you couldn't walk five feet without something popping out at you, claws  outstretched and snapping its teeth.

You made sure to wrap your tendrils around V quickly this time, stopping him before he could confidently stroll out with little concern for his god damn  safety . 

“Whoa there, pretty boy,” You cautioned as he turned to raise a single brow at you, “There are demons here, ready to pop out.”

He inclined his head, sweeping back some of his black hair with one hand.

“That does remind me,” He murmured, jade eyes scanning the area ahead of you and alight with interest, “This isn’t the first time you have known of an oncoming attack. How are you able to tell?”

That was a question you definitely couldn’t give a full answer too. You paused, desperately trying to get your thoughts together to formulate a reasonable answer.

“I. ..don’t know?” Your dumb brain straight up flat-lined, making you falter in your words as you looked away, “It’s....complicated. I can’t really explain it; I just feel things sometimes. I learned to listen to instinct.” Not a lie, not completely. The Foresight was a lot more complex than that, almost like a living entity inside. You didn’t just feel, you felt pain. But you couldn’t tell him that.

V seemed to sense your discomfort on the topic, gaze lingering on you before he simply nodded and turned away again. You tried not to sigh with relief, summoning your power and trying to focus when he started walking forward, throwing caution to the wind again as he pointed his cane at the clearing. Griffon and Shadow shot forward, already prepared to fight when the demons began to dissolve out of the ground. There was fairly more this time, much to your annoyance and disgust. Shadow set on them with a roar, a series of spikes shooting out of their body and skewering the approaching demons. Griffon let out an elated cry, swooping down between a line of demons with a screech of  _ “Fuck yeah!”.  _ In his wake came a line of purple lightning, frying a few of the creatures to a crisp. 

V pulled out his poetry book, reading a few versed aloud as you darted past him, leaping up and sending several tendrils down into the earth, shooting up all around to impale the oncoming demons. They screeched in pain, swiping at your feet as you flipped over them, Griffon catching you by your arm before one could reach up and snatch you. He deposited you on top of a dumpster, swooping over to grab V and move him out of the way of an attack as well. Shadow was contenting itself with skewering demons to the other side, slamming them into a wall hard enough you were sure they saw stars. You hopped down from the dumpster, channeling the energy again until it slightly burned, hissing out a cloud of cold air. 

You descended upon the nearest demon, grabbing it by the jaw as you leveled a kick on it from behind, its spine snapping on impact. It screamed, the sound gurgled and warped as it tried to uselessly swing an arm back at you. You dodged it, kicking it forward onto Shadow's spikes. A spurt of blood, the demon falling silent as the cat flung it toward V to finish it off. You darted over to the poet, using your tendrils to launch him into the air to stab the flailing creature. He laughed when you did, eager and elated as he spun upwards and thrust his cane into its chest cavity, spraying blood in his wake. 

You wiped it off  your face , grimacing as you ached for that shower again. Five more demons remained, heading toward you and the poet as he landed on his feet. 

_ “Red is a good color on you. _ ” He purred as he moved past, eyes lingering on the blood splattered on your cheek. You touched it with your fingertips, realizing that you missed some when you went to wipe it moments before.

You gave him an exasperated smile, summoning your power again as you faced the oncoming creatures, “I would agree if I wasn’t ready to commit murder for a shower.”

He chuckled at that, eyes alight with mischief as he snapped his fingers. 

The black disintegrated from his hair, bringing forth that dazzling white again. Moments later, Nightmare appeared, breaking through the mural you were admiring earlier and coming to a tumbling halt on the cobblestone. You mourned the loss of the art, but you had to admit it was quite the elaborate entrance. Before, he just fell from the sky, but it seemed like the creature could be summoned in elaborate ways. It was entertaining to say the least, and you always loved seeing the third summon in action. The moment he entered the fight the demons were doomed. A single laser shot across the battlefield sent several of them flying, killing two of them instantly. As V darted over to finish them off, the gargantuan creature made its way to the others with a hulking gate. 

He swung a large arm around, knocking one into the ground and causing it to splinter into pieces of stone. Another tried to jump on his back, but was quickly impaled on Shadow’s spikes as the cat came up from behind. Another was stomped underneath Nightmare’s foot, the sound of cracking bone echoing in the courtyard followed by a choked screech. This fight was definitely over, you could tell. You made your way to the closest demon, impaling it with your tendrils to kill it instantly. V made quick work of the others, finishing them off with that special flourish of his. You found yourself smiling, retracting your power back when you realized that Nightmare was staring at you.

You blinked, meeting its gaze as it watched you silently. It didn’t really have a face, no expressions to read. Just that swirling black, like tar, and one eye staring at you. Not the strangest thing you had seen, and it was still V’s companion.

So, you gave it a smile and a wave, tone friendly as you said, “Thank you for your hard work.”

The creature tilted its head at you, eye blinking once as it gave visible pause.

It then nodded once before disintegrating into nothingness, returning back to V’s hair from whence it came. V wiped his cane again, watching the whole exchange with amusement and mirth. You couldn’t help but wonder how he felt about you making friends with his familiars. He never seemed bothered by it, more so fascinated than anything. Until he said otherwise, you were going to continue being nice to all of them. The little  victories, right? You let out a pleased noise, glad you could interact with the creature this time. 

Griffon landed on your shoulder, shaking his head at you as he quipped, “You are the strangest chick I have ever met. Downright fucking looney. Batshit, one might say.”

You hummed at that, grabbing his talons as you turned to look at the broken mural—there looked to be a hidden path there.

“You’re right,” You said teasingly, a smirk on your face, “Otherwise why would I enjoy the bullshit always coming out of your mouth?”

“Masochism maybe?” Griffon mocked right back, snapping his beak by your ear, “You must like to suffer, toots.”

If he only knew how much pain you willingly put up with on a daily basis to use the power of the Void. His sharp tongue was child’s play compared to that.

V made his way to the broken mural, so Griffon launched himself from your shoulders, lifting his master up into the building. You followed suit, using the tendrils to launch up and over into it. The place was abandoned entirely, but was without enemies. You and V made your way out the back, finding your way into an alley behind the buildings. More  graffiti there, and what appeared to be...what the hell was that? You felt yourself from as you and V neared some strange, demonic flesh dripping green goop. The smell was atrocious, and you fought gagging and stopped in your tracks. 

“What the hell is that?” You asked what your brain was desperately wondering, the disgust plain in your tone.

V smirked again, approaching the thing with zero hesitation. Much to your shock and growing horror, he pulled a squealing bug-like bundle of flesh off of the goop, causing the remaining flesh to disintegrate. You had seen some pretty disgusting things in your travels, but that was some of the worst by far. The thing looked like a glorified tick, completely nasty with little spindly legs. And the smell...it was absolutely not your favorite thing. You were further disgusted with  V when he tucked the little creature into his jacket, turning to face you with a bemused grin. 

You pressed a hand to your temple, lungs releasing a hefty sigh as you said, “Words cannot describe the level of disgust I feel right now,” You scrunched up your nose, eyeing the little creature peeking out of his jacket as you added, “I cannot fucking believe you just tucked that thing in your coat. V. What the fuck is that?”

He chuckled, griping his cane as he gestured for you to follow him. You reluctantly did, not liking the vibes the little demon bug carried as V lead you out of the alley.

“It’s called a  Nidhogg hatchling,” He replied to you, pointing his cane further down the way at another dripping pile of flesh blocking another alleyway, “We need it to pass through there.”

You made a sound of understanding, but you still didn’t like it.

Griffon swooped down from your side, laughing in that grating tone as he mocked, “Really? Miss- _ tries-to-make-friends-with-everyone _ is grossed out by a god damn hatchling?” He landed on your shoulders, seeming downright smug at your wary expression, “Grossed out by a little bug? I’m disappointed in you.”

You frowned at him, his banter not really welcome when you were trying not to vomit at the smell of the place.

“Listen I don’t like bugs,” You said simply, eyes narrowing on the loud and obnoxious bird as you added, “Is there a problem?”

“ Ooo no no—no problem,” He caroled, snickering at the end of his words, “Just enjoying your prejudice against bugs. It’s so very girlish of you.”

You opened your mouth to defend your dislike of bugs and to dismantle his line of thought, since men could very well be afraid of bugs without it being girlish. But you found that despite your dislike of the creatures you couldn’t pinpoint where exactly that fear came from, or why. Like other things with you and your thought process, you felt the residual emotions from it but without the substance to back it up. You reasoned that it was another memory removed and tried to shrug it off. Things of that nature happened a lot—a thought, an emotion, a feeling without source. But still ever present. You were just happy you didn’t have a fear of heights or anything like that. Bug phobias were pretty tolerable.

“Anyone can have a phobia, Griffon,” You finally said, following V as he exited back out onto another street, “I didn’t take you for the type to assign genders to shit.”

Your tone was quietly disappointed and  judgmental , something he immediately caught onto.

“Are you mad at me? It feels like you’re mad at me,” He let out an over-dramatic sigh, leaning his head back and throwing off your momentum a bit, “Oh, whatever will I do. Now the fucking  _ cat  _ will be your favorite.”

You smiled at that, letting  out a low hum as you replied, “Bold of you to assume you were the favorite to begin with.”

Griffon hissed at that, tilting back and snapping his beak by your left ear, “ Ooo , jeez, ouch. That  _ actually  _ stung, girlie. That was downright  _ hurtful,”  _ His tone became sorrowful, him  sweeping a wing over his eyes dramatically as he said in a choked voice, “And here I thought we had  somethin ’!”

V chuckled again at your banter, turning onto another street. A few more moments of walking lead to that other wall of flesh. Much to your disgust and added relief, he pulled the creature out again. He deposited it in the wall, the creature squealing as it crawled inside. Moments later, the wall disintegrated, opening the path so your group could pass.

“Gnarly,” You muttered, making V smirk again as you followed him to the new area.

You rounded a corner and entered what appeared to be a shopping district of sorts. Tables with umbrellas were scattered here and there, lining the storefronts of abandoned restaurants. You winced at the sight of more husks here, seeing that a few people were caught running from the threat after a day of shopping. Some were huddled on the floor, frozen forever in their moment of death holding each other. Sights like these unnerved you, and you turned your gaze away to try not to think about it. Instead you focused on reading storefronts, eyes scanning the area and waiting for threats to appear. This area was oddly demon free, for whatever reason. But there was a huge wall of roots at the end of the shopping district, from what you could see.

Griffon let out a bird-like noise as he hopped off of your shoulders, flying around the shopping district with a glide of his wings. After a moment, he made a sound of intrigue, landing on what appeared to be a bright red phone booth, tapping his claws on the metal roof of it as he whistled to V. The goth immediately turned, seeing the box and letting out a light hum as he turned and approached it.

“A phone...I wonder if we can reach that woman,” He mused, pulling a coin out of his vest, “See if she can offer any  assistance .”

You leaned against the red box, smiling lightly as you replied, “Go for it. I’d like to get the chance to talk to Nico again.” You weren’t lying—you liked Nico. You were curious to see how she was doing and get to know her a little bit better. She had been pretty nice to you, all things considered. And she was really cute—not that you were interested.

V chuckled lightly, dialing what you recognized to be the same number as she gave you. It rang for a few moments, the goth putting the phone to his ear.

“Come meet  us, we’re at—” He began to say, but you heard the faint sound of Nico’s voice cut him off.

“Yeah yeah yeah, keep ya panties on. I _see_ ya already—Be right there.”

He had no sooner hung up the phone when the sound of screeching tires was heard. You blinked, gaze swinging around and upwards as you heard the faint, alarmed yelling of Nico as her van came careening off a broken bridge right above your heads. You gasped in shock, watching as V darted to the side then leapt upwards, sending Shadow out to leap onto the top of the van and sending it slamming to the ground. It skidded out of control for a few moments, whipping at an ungraceful stop as Nico exclaimed loudly inside as the fast motions. Your heart was pounding a mile a minute in your chest, staring at the van with a look of shock mixed with exasperation. 

Nico was definitely insane, that could have easily ended very badly.

You approached the van, watching as the woman opened a window and poked her head out to look at you both. She blew a hair out of her face, looking a little frazzled all things considered.

“Hey Nico?” You said in a worried tone, raising a brow as you met her gaze, “Do you take criticism on your driving?”

She gave you a half smirk, still a little out of breath as she replied, “Not without cryin’.”

You snorted, shaking your head a bit as you made your way to the side door of the mobile home. Somehow, that answer made sense. Regardless, you still opened it, taking a step in the van with V close behind. Nico approached you as soon as you walked inside, watching as Griffon settled on his favorite perch on the jukebox and Shadow weaved in between your legs. V nodded at her as he made his way to the back of the van, eyes fixated on what appeared to be a small statue. You decided to mind your own buisness, sitting down on the leather couch to wait for him to finish what he was doing. Shadow immediately leapt up and half flung itself on your lap, closing its eyes.

You smiled brightly, delighted all over again.

“Glad to see you’re still livin’,” Nico commented, crossing her arms over her chest, “And now you’re getting' cuddly with the poet’s familiars.”

You shrugged, looking up at her with a friendly expression, “They’re nice when you get to know them. How have you been doing?"

Nico paused, seeming surprised that you even asked.

“I’m alright,” She replied, sitting down next to you and putting a hesitant hand on Shadow’s back. The cat, completely distracted by your pats to its head, didn’t seem to mind, “Been workin’ hard making dipshit’s arms and the like. Drivin’ around everywhere. How ‘bout you? How has walkin’ around with mister poet been?”

You looked back at V, watching as he placed his hand on the statue and closed his eyes. 

“It’s been good,” You replied, expression cheerful as you looked at Nico again. You lowered your tone, “Though V is a bit reckless at times, he’s easy enough to get along with. A mysterious guy.” You tried to sound neutral where he was concerned, not wanting it to be obvious that you were really enjoying V’s company. 

Nico made a “Huh” sound, shrugging her shoulders as she stood up again.

“Well, since  y’all are here,” She said, seeming incredibly jazzed about something as she smirked at you, planting her hands on her hips, “I worked on a little something for  ya .”

You blinked, startled by her words.

“But I. ..don’t really have anything to pay you with,” You said hesitantly, not sure what the form of currency was like in the world to begin with, “I wouldn’t want to take without payment.”

She scoffed, “Course. Which is why I was  gonna ask  somethin ’ of  ya ,” She walked to her work station, pulling out a wooden box and bringing it over to you, “I have a little prototype project made of demon materials, and you’re  gonna test them for me. Also, since you’re walkin’ around with My Chemical Romance over there, I want you to keep an eye out for supplies I can use.” There was no request there, no questions asked. Just orders, plain and simple.

You blinked again. She seemed pretty pleased with herself, smug as a peacock. It looked like she had put a lot of thought into this, everything all planned out. Nico was a very assertive person, and you doubted that you were allowed to say no. Besides, you didn’t want to be rude. She was a skilled craftswoman, and any chance to use her wares was a gift all its own. It would also help when you didn’t want to over exert your abilities, an edge in battle you didn’t otherwise have.

“Fine by me,” You replied, offering a rueful smile, “I’ll be happy to help in any way I can.”

She gave a little nod, still wearing that smug smile. She approached you with the box, popping the top up so she could display what it was she made. You peeked at it, eyes going wide when you saw a set of two beautiful daggers. They were silver, glowing blue and red veins weaving through the metal like tree branches. The handles were wooden, polished and beautiful and veined with what looked to be a crystal of sorts. Or opal.

You stared in awe, downright starry eyed as you looked at the daggers. You didn’t know what to say—Nico seemed to enjoy the expression you had, smirking even  more.

“Pretty, right? A work of  _ art,”  _ She sounded impressed with herself as she puffed up like a proud bird, “I spent most of the night on those bad bitches, but I have no idea what they can do—so you’re  gonna do that work for me.”

You smiled wryly, gratefully accepting a dagger when she offered one to you—it felt good, weighted perfectly and warm to the touch. You could feel energy coursing through it, demonic and full of chaos. You had no doubt whatever these daggers could do, they could do it well. Nico seemed to almost vibrate with excitement, eyeing the dagger in your hand eagerly as you gave it an experimental twirl. You were trained to use most weapons, but usually found yourself not needing them due to the void powers. But daggers were great, and you were more than willing to test them out—using something so beautiful was definitely up your ally. 

“Let me at least give you something in return,” You said, holding out a hand and closing your eyes. You could afford to expend some extra energy as long as you had these new daggers to use. Your voice was low, ringing with energy as you murmured, “ _ From the Void, into being.” _

You summoned your Void energy, feeling the tendrils appear out of your hand and curl around themselves, taking shape and forming something not earthly. A material straight from the Void, but organic at the same time. It formed into a black crystal, cold to the touch and shimmering in the light. You saw Nico’s eyes light up, staring at the material with unbridled interest and excitement—you knew the material contained energy from the Void, a low-level version of it. Not enough to hurt whoever used it, but certainly able to provide useful effects if needed.

“This is a material created by the Deity I get my power from,” You informed her, handing it to her once it was fully formed. She snatched it up eagerly, holding it to her chest and looking like an excited kid on Christmas, “You can use it for whatever you want, it’s completely safe and pure.”

“Holy  _ shit!”  _ Nico exclaimed, already rushing over to her work desk with the new material, “Y/N You definitely are  makin ’ this arrangement worth it!” 

You saw V look up from the statue, bemused as Nico already started pulling on her working clothes, setting the material on the desk. You smiled, taking the other dagger out of the box and tucking both of them into notches on your belt.

Time to set out again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just be warned that after the Nidhogg fight I'm skipping a lot of sewer stuff yall.

_ Chapter 6 _

Nico was still feverishly working when you and V left the mobile home, doing god knew what with crystal you had given her. You were glad she was enjoying it at the very least—giving payment for the daggers felt a little bit better to you. They were snuggled comfortably against your side, made for easy access during battle. You thought you saw V glance at them, but he never commented on it. He only swirled his cane, closing the door of the van as he eyed the big wall of roots ahead. They were writhing slightly, looking pretty intimidating and lacking the usual bundle of bright red flesh that was its weak spot. You frowned, feeling the creeping sensation of your Foresight flaring as soon as your group started walking toward it.

Before you could even open your mouth, something shot out from the wall of roots--it looked like a flower bud, but with sharp teeth as it went screaming toward you and V with its gaping maw outstretched. You reacted in an instantly, darting to the side with the poet as the giant head of the creature slammed into the ground, cracking the earth and splintering concrete. You rolled back, feeling V’s hand on the small of your back as the two of you steadied yourselves. What the fuck was that?! Your gaze jerked up in enough time to catch something else bursting from the wall of thorn, looking very...very odd. It was shaped like a human, but devoid of features. Textured like a piece of fruit, like there were pods of liquid inside of it. Tiny black spiky covered it, like a jolly rancher that had been dropped on the floor.  

A cloud of dust settled, the thing making shocked and furious sounds at you and V as it looked at you—at least you think it did?

“You _dodged_ me...!” It rasped at your group, chest heaving with rage as ripples vibrated its form with every word, “Did _you_ dodge _me._..?!”

“Ugh, _Nidhogg_ ,” Griffon grunted, landing on V’s outstretched arm while you brushed off the dust, “Never liked this guy. “

You shot him a questing look, opening your mouth to ask about those gross hatchlings from earlier, but the creature only grew more pissed. Its strange, red body warbled slightly as it sucked in a rasping breath with a mouth that didn’t exist, swaying back and forth and snarling a reply.

“You, _pest,_ do I _know_ you?”

Griffon didn’t seem to know the meaning of subtle or tact. He let out another scoff, jerking his beak in the direction of the clearly threatening creature as he added, “Dumb as a box of rocks. Let’s not even mess with guy V,” He rustled his feathers, narrowing his eyes at the creature while V smirked, “He can’t even leave the Qliphoth anyway. Just a Qliphoth parasite.”

His condescending tone was asking for trouble. Your foresight was flaring wildly.

“Griffon!” You hissed a warning through clenched teeth, looking up in enough to see Nidhogg vibrating with outrage.

“Did you _insult me_?!” The creature rasped, his voice like nails on a chalkboard. You groaned internally, activating your Void powers. There was a battle brewing, you could feel it deep in your bones. And there was no getting out of it.

“—Uh oh.” Griffon mumbled when the creature started rasping more with rage, its body twitching and rolling with its chaotic energy.

 _“You insulted me_!” It was getting angrier; a temper tantrum was coming.

“I think he heard me....and he’s angry!” Griffon squawked in alarm when the creature leveled an attack his way, just narrowly managing to dodge as a cloud of dust and debris was sent flying. You coughed, waving a hand in front of your face and worry filling you until you saw Griffon shaking off his feathers, hovering in the air with an annoyed expression.

 _“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!_ ” Nidhogg snarled in rage, staring down at your rag tag group with unmistakable fury and what was more than likely a case of severely hurt pride. You groaned internally, letting out a heavy sigh as you threw Griffon an exasperated look. There was definitely no avoiding this fight now, that was to be sure.

V, however, didn’t seem phased. He merely waved away some of the dust, turning to face the enraged creature with that typical cocky, smug smile on his face.

“Not in this lifetime,” He said in that sultry tone. He griped his cane tighter, a bemused look in his eyes as he addressed Nidhogg, quoting what you knew to be a poem in a voice that was definitely condescending.

“ _As the air to a bird, or the sea to a fish, so is contempt—”_

He whipped his cane up to point it right at Nidhogg’s face, wearing a look that was downright mocking as he finished in a smooth purr, “ _—To the contemptible.”_

This was such a bad idea, but there was no stopping it now.

Nidhogg immediately reared back, a screech of rage leaving his as three more flower-headed monstrosities burst forth. One immediately lunged for V, jaws only managing to snap shut on open air when he narrowly dodged the attack. The battlefield was suddenly a flurry of activity, Griffon attacking the creatures with a vigor and Shadow tearing at a flower bud with claws and spikes. You exchanged a glance with the poet before flipping around, sending a flurry of tendrils whipping out like razors to latch onto the nearest flower head. Nico was close enough to watch, so you were gonna put on a show with her new daggers she made you. So as soon as the creature screamed, rearing back, you used that momentum to launch you upwards to it.

You whipped out both daggers, feeling the weight on it settling nicely in your hands. They throbbed with energy, a cold breath leaving your lungs as you whipped around and slammed the dagger into the bud’s head. As soon as it cut through flesh, the blade’s veins glowed bright, the creature letting out a scream as a flare of blue veins started spreading through the bud, making it whip its head wildly around. You held on, stabbing it over and over with this blade until the head was covered with the glowing marks. Only then did you let go, whipping back just as the creature screamed, rearing its mighty head as the veins grew brighter and brighter until a loud crackle rang out, the beast disintegrating instantly in a flare of fire.

Wow. That was pretty cool.  

You skidded when landing below, exhilaration filling you as they blade in your hand throbbed with that warmth, eager for more spilled blood.  You looked up at Nidhogg, watching his head whip around and watch the fight, rage morphing into confusion and panic as he saw V being helped by Shadow and Griffon.

“Y...you use...de...demons?” He rasped, sounding just as dumb as Griffon previously claimed he was—so you have to give him that at least, “But you.. _.human.._.?!”

V whipped out his cane, summoning Shadow to attack a freshly grown flower bud as he hummed, _“If the fool would persist in his folly, he would become wise.”_

Nidhogg let out confused, rasping grunts, still hovering in the air and not really engaging in the battle.

Griffon swooped past you, wings flapping wildly as he sneered loudly at the creature, “Meaning don’t try to think too much, shithead!” He cackled maniacally, seeming to really be enjoying himself as he sent a line of lightning at the flowering buds, making them screech in pain.

Nidhogg let out another rasp, watching as your group slashed its way through two more flowers. He reared back, much higher than before, almost like he was retreating. You squinted up at him, your theory confirmed when you heard him mumble just loud enough to be heard, “I...I’m busy...You guys can finish it.”

What a coward. You weren’t having that.  

“Where do you think you’re going?” You called up, activating the Void energy inside as a cloud of chilled air left your lips

You whipped your tendrils up, wrapping onto his wet, gross body before he could hide himself. You heard him shriek in shock, whipping his head down see just what was grabbing him. Which would be you. You gripped the tendrils harder when he started providing resistance, one of the flower buds whipping around to attack you. You leapt up, using the flower as a jumping off point to launch yourself back, yanking the tendrils hard as you hit the ground. Nidhogg let out a cry of alarm when you pulled him hard toward the ground, in perfect position for Shadow and Griffon to level some attacks.

And for you as well.

You heard V open his book, calmly reading a poem aloud as you bolted to Nidhogg, stabbing one of those daggers into his head before he could retreat again. He let out a rasping wail of agony, swiping one arm of blade at you from the side. V immediately noticed, sending Griffon to snatch you away before the attack hit. You let out a huff of air, watching some of the veins spread and crackle, doing damage but not killing Nidhogg. He’d need a little more smacking around before that.

Griffon let out a cackle of a laugh, depositing you back now next to V as he squawked, “Ooo you getting' risky on us Girlie? Didn’t take you for the reckless type....!”

You rolled your eyes, pointing at him with a dagger as you replied, “You guys are just a bad influence!”

He laughed again, whipping back around to enter the fray. He swept down in between the flower buds, shooting lightning balls with a peal of delight and amusement. Nidhogg screamed in pain, fighting against your razor-sharp tendrils in a desperate bid to rise up and escape again. You tightened them instead, watching them dig into his soft, fleshy body. The more he struggled, the more he would hurt himself. And luckily for you he was stupid enough to do that.

“This dimwit wants to be all high and mighty!” Griffon scoffed, eyes glowing with mirth, “Strike ‘em down, V!”

You saw the poet smirk, griping his cane in one hand and slipping his book back into his vest. He whipped his hand back to snap his fingers, sending Nightmare tumbling down from the sky and landing hard on a flower bud. The impact made the ground shake a bit, you stumbling and grabbing onto a light pole. V was now his white-haired self, taking a running leap and landing on Nightmare’s back. He pressed the cane down, using it for leverage as he positioned himself over one of the mighty creature’s shoulders. Nightmare now seemed to be entirely under his control, the line of his laser following in a clear path over and over.

You contented yourself with leaping over the exploding lasers, taking out as many flower buds as you could so V wouldn’t have to. You saw him leap off of Nightmare's shoulders once to finish one off, sending a shower of blood and energy. He landed back on the hulking black Goliath, seeming to enjoy himself. He was also pretty safe on the giant’s back, which was a weight off of you. You could afford to do some real fighting.  You felt Shadow rush past you, so you followed, waiting for them to attack a flower before shooting up to stab a dagger into its skull. Nidhogg screamed with every new blow, swiping at anyone he could reach in his attempt to be free of the prison of threads you had him in.

“Even the big bad kitty knows you have shit for brains!” Griffon cackled, pounding Goliath in the face with lightning shots.  

Nidhogg let out pained cries, voice raspy and full of indignation as he howled back, “Qu...Qu....Quiet you...! You...bird and cat...!”

You sighed. This definitely felt like bullying.

It didn’t really matter, this battle was coming to a swift end. Or at least so you thought.

Your thread holding Nidhogg down allowed for a steady smacking session on him, must to your shock and horror, he wasn’t done yet. One of the flower buds shot out, hacking a mouthful of what looked to be vomit or acid onto Griffon before the bird could fly away. You should have known he was going to try and go for the loud mouthed, insulting bird out of all of you. You didn’t even see it coming, only able to turn fast enough to see Griffon screech, wildly flapping his wings as he fell to the ground. To your even bigger horror, he crumbled before your eyes into a pile of black dusk, a glowing orb hovering over it and swirling with energy.

“ _Griffon!_ ” You cried, running over to the glowing orb and staring at it with a pounding heart. You feared for the worst, having no idea of what the hell happened or how the familiars worked. All you knew is Griffon got hurt, and that alone was enough to send you into a panic.  

You were distraught enough that you didn’t notice a flower bud rearing back to level that same attack on you. Your only indication was the feeling of V slamming into, sending you both rolling away from the attack. One of his arms wrapped around your waist, his breath in your ear as he pulled you to your feet. Shadow immediately attacked the flower that tried to yack on you, sending a flurry of spikes its way. You half noticed Nightmare was gone again, but that seemed pretty low on the list of important things at that moment. That orb was still there, and Griffon was not.

V was panting slightly with exertion, still holding onto you as he breathed in your ear, “Worry not. Give him a second.”

You didn’t realize you were on the verge of crying until you blinked, eyes burned slightly as tears threatened to come out. Your chest was heaving with breaths as well, eyes darting back to where Griffon’s orb still floated in the air.  

Seconds later, the dust shot upwards, reforming around the orb in a gentle swirl of energy. From that form the familiar shape of a bird flew out, shaking out his feathers as he cursed loudly in that grating voice of his as he reformed entirely. Relief filled you, making you slump over slightly and let out a soft breath. That had probably taken a few years off of your life, you were certain of that. You should have known better; the familiars were made of sterner stuff than that.

“Boy that was a fucking doozy!” Griffon exclaimed with a huff, turning to look at you and V. Completely oblivious to your previous panic, simply eyeing V still holding onto you with a low whistle of you, “Ooo, shucks, did I interrupt something?”

Another attacking flower bud cut off your sharp reply. Griffon immediately swooped down, grabbing V as the poet pushed you in the opposite direction. You rolled, sending a dagger flying into the creature’s head as Griffon deposited V nearby, the poet whipping out his book to start reading poems again.

“Hey Griffon?” You called as you retrieved the dagger, dodging another attack as you addressed the bird, “Can you like, warn me next time that you and Shadow can’t actually die?” It would save you so much god damn worry.

“Hey, it's not my fault Shakespeare doesn’t explain shit!” Griffon squawked indignantly, sending a wall of lightning flying past you. He shifted to cocky in the next instant, flying past you as he added, “Were you worried about me, toots? I’m touched, truly I am. Absolutely tickled pink. I do believe I could cry!”

You let out a light, out of breath laugh, sliding to the side to dodge again as you replied, “Yeah I was. Is there a problem with that?”

Griffon didn’t have a good comeback for that. He merely let out a light, trilling laugh, launching back into the battle with renewed vigor. But the fight was coming to its end.  

You saw Shadow level one more attack on Nidhogg, sending a spike directly through its skull and sending him rearing back with a snarl of pain. V could tell the time was now, it was written on his face. He launched forward, you finally releasing the creature so V could finish him off with some style. You used your tendrils to launch V upward as the creature violently reared back, blade arms swinging at open air. Its flower buds were now gone, leaving V an open window to flip upwards, slamming his cane into the side of Nidhogg’s head. The creature immediately let out a rasping scream of agony, wiggling violently back and forth as V held on by the cane.  

 _“The cut worm forgives the plow,”_ He purred in that sultry tone, just barely heard over Nidhogg’s dying cries, “ _What do you say?”_

He ripped his cane out in one fluid motion, sending Nidhogg’s body drooping down from the bundle of vines and flesh. Immediately the whole structure began to crumble and disintegrate, his body turning into glowing dust on the breeze. You leaned against a nearby pillar to catch your breath, watching V land nimbly and grip the top of his cane as he too watching the remains fade. The whole fight had lasted about fifteen minutes, but it had been high energy the entire time. You were shocked you hadn’t exerted yet, but still able to take a little more abuse it would seem. The daggers definitely helped. Most of your time was spent using them to attack and the tendrils to hold Nidhogg.  

Still, a breather would have been great after all that had happened. But you knew things were never that easy. Before you could start to relax, the bundle of roots blocking the path disappeared. What it revealed was less than pleasing to be sure.

Behind the wall stood a towering behemoth of a creature. It must have been taller than an office building, with long legs and tentacles coming out of it. You saw V blink, tilting his head a bit as the creature swung around slowly look at your group standing there, just off the ass end of a battle. You immediately straightened your spine, taking a step closer to V as the thing took one large, echoing step toward you. Oh, that was definitely alarming. You were strong, you knew that, but that thing was...pretty big, and you had already expending a lot of energy. So, fighting it was not in the best interest of the group.

And for once, you and V seemed to be in agreement on that.

“Okay, um...all right that’s not good at all,” Griffon quipped nervously, flapping his wings right next to you, “That’s not good.”

You were contemplating how to convince the group to just fucking walk away when you realized V was doing exactly that. He tapped your shoulder once to get your attention, reaching his cane out to turn your face away from the enemy. You noticed right away he looked tired, pretty warn out from the fight. Realization stuck that he definitely didn’t want to fight that thing either, so you grabbed Griffon by his talons, pulling the bird to your shoulders with a startled squawk as you turned to follow.

“Wait...! What?! Where are you guys going?!” He exclaimed in shock, resting his weight on your head, “Are you running away? That...That’s not a good sign.” Concern filled his tone now, claws digging in a little too sharp as he looked wildly between you, V, and the slowly approaching creature.

V turned to look at the huge monster, smiling wryly, albeit a bit tiredly as he replied in a reasonable tone, “I’m afraid that,” He pointed at it with his cane, the wind sending his pretty locks blowing slightly on the breeze, “That’s a bit more than I can take on right now.”

You nodded, unease filling you as your Foresight began to flare, “It’s time to bounce, kids.” That wasn’t a suggestion either.

You no sooner spoke when your Foresight flared hard, sending your feet pounding across pavement just as lasers shot out from the creature at you and V. You grabbed  him with your tendrils as you ran past, dragging him along as you tried to make a quick escape from the now-attacking monster. Today was shaping up to be one full of fighting, that was to be sure. You weren’t particularly a fan of fighting huge beasts, so this was definitely putting a damper on all the wonderful things you had counted earlier.  

Even worse, as you ran, you felt the ground underneath your feet begin to crumble, torn apart by the creature’s attacks you and the group dodged. Griffon was letting out loud, alarmed squawks, swooping down in between you two just as the ground gave way underneath you, sending you and the poet falling into a chasm in the street. You let out a startled gasp, attempting to reach out and grab something with the tendrils but unable to attach to any of the falling ground. You heard V let out an alarmed shout next to you, his arm tucking you against him again as he tried to tilt you both so he would take the brunt of the fall.  

Not again. You weren’t letting him hurt himself.

You hissed, wrapping you and him in the tendrils before the ground hit, snarling out “ _Feather Fall!”_ mere seconds before the poet connected the Earth. The momentum of the fall sent you and him apart, you rolling across the ground and coming to a skidding halt with a groan. A cloud of dust and debris was settling all around you, making you cough and wheeze. Fuck, that sucked an unbelievable amount. The impact was mitigated, but you sliding across solid concrete was not—you could feel fresh scrapes on your elbows, thigh highs torn on your one knee where another scrape made its home. You lay on the ground for a moment with your eyes closed, trying to gather your motivation to move.

You had to make sure V and the others were okay.

You started to raise yourself up, hearing V’s ragged breathing. He called out before you, voice echoing in...where were you guys exactly? A sewer tunnel?

“Y/N?” He panted, and you looked up in enough time to see him peeling himself off a piece of the road that had fallen with you guys. He was grimacing, dust settling over his pretty hair and over his shoulders.

You let out a light sigh, rolling over and flopping on your back as you replied dryly, “Everybody who’s not dead—sound off.”

You heard Griffon flapping overhead, letting out a shaky laugh as he stared up and the gaping hole you all had fallen through.  

“Hoo, oh boy we’re alive, we made it!” He squawked, swooping down to circle you and the dusty goth, “It’s out lucky day, V! Let's go find a game of cards.”

You heard V laugh—or maybe it was a scoff.

“I’m fairly certain we survived that,” He said, slowly standing and offering you a hand to help you up, “Because Y/N made it so.”

You graciously accepted, letting him give you enough momentum to remove yourself from what was probably a filthy floor, “I do have some uses, it would seem.”

V gave you a smirk, one that you returned with a rueful smile of your own. You reached out a hand, brushing it over his silken ebony hair to remove some of the dust, then down to his shoulders to remove it from there as well, “That was a little more excitement than I wanted for the day, I must admit.”

You skin brushed his for a brief moment, sending tingles up your arm before you pulled away. Something about your own actions made your heart pound in your ears again, face still managing to look composed despite the level of idiot you felt inside.  

V didn’t seem to mind your actions, in fact he reached out and brushed off your shoulders as well. He slid his hand down to your elbow, lifting it slightly so he could inspect the damage caused by the fall. Something about his actions felt very sensual, and you bit the inside of your cheek a bit to try and calm your idiot body. That time in the Void was definitely making you insane. Unfortunately, Griffon saw the whole exchange, his eyes alright with mirth and interest as he circled you both, luckily not saying anything. He seemed to have the good sense enough to not do that, not now after all the bullshit of falling down a hole.  

“You’re a little banged up,” V murmured, fingers gingerly probing the raw part of your elbow. It was a light sting, but your pain tolerance was high enough that it was absolutely no bother, “Do you have any way of healing this?”

You smiled, “I can conjure up some salve for it. Are you hurt anywhere?”

He let out a light hum as you looked him over, seeing nothing. Not a mark. Maybe Griffon was right, maybe you did have fragile skin?

“I’m no worse for wear,” V replied, but you remembered right away how tired he had seemed after the battle. It was hard to see in the dim light, but you were sure there were dark circles under his eyes, “Please make the efforts to heal yourself.”

Mmmm no. You were gonna ignore that.

Instead you wrapped the tendrils around him, watching his expression shift to confusion until you murmured that familiar spell. Your energy transferred into him in an instant, helping to relieve some of the fatigue and giving him a burst of strength to his muscles again. You heard him release a soft breath, eyes closing at the sensation and lashes brushing his pale skin. He looked both exasperated and relieved, probably more upset that you weren’t heeding his advice and simply enjoying the feeling of not being fucking exhausted anymore. You heard Griffon let out a low whistle, followed by an amused chortle as he flew overhead. Something about transferring energy to this dumb, reckless goth felt way to sensual, more so than you were used to. He took it so easily, absorbing the energy with no resistance. The simple act of giving and receiving felt...

You were not going to get into that.

You retrieved your tendrils, smiling cheerfully as you asked him, “Feeling better?”

He let out a light sigh, opening his eyes again to meet your gaze with exasperation on his face.

“You should focus on healing yourself,” He chided lightly, tapping your shoulder with his cane, “I don’t want you walking around injured.”

You shrug, offering an encouraging look, “They’re just scrapes, don’t worry. I don’t even feel them.” Not a lie, they felt virtually painless. They wouldn’t hinder you in any way.

V let out a low hum, but still seemed a little worried. He brushed past you with a gentle squeeze to your shoulder, staring up at the Qliphoth roots in the ceiling. You saw Shadow appear at his feet again, shaking off their pelt as they weaved between your feet and V’s. You reached down to give them a comforting pat. That fight left you worried about them and Griffon when it came to their well-being--dying was no laughing matter, and experiencing it over and over could be traumatizing. So, you were now determined to do your best to make sure that didn’t happen.

V ran his hand along the wall of the tunnel, eyes scanning the environment as he murmured to himself, “This Qliphoth roots...They’re everywhere.”

Griffon let out a little huff, landing on your shoulders in a familiar pose of rest, “Well, we _are_ underground.”

V smirked a bit, that wry smile forming on his face as he tapped his cane on the floor, “Then I guess we have some clearing up to do.”

“And me without my gardening shears.” Griffon tsked in response, earning a light chuckle from the poet.

You let out a light hum as you followed, eyeing the walls and mourning the fact that you had yet to encounter a shower even further. Everything down here looked dirty and it was the worst thing. Roots were winding in and out of passage ways, making easy access for the tree to bind itself in place. No wonder it had managed to spread so far—access tunnels like this made it easy work for the roots to settle themselves in. Not to mention things like subways and everything else the city hid—luckily there were no husks down here yet, so the only thing to worry about was maybe the occasional group of demons and the thorny nightmare roots.

You looked at V as you followed behind him, wondering briefly why he was so focused on this task with Urizen to begin with. Sure, it was a huge issue and threatened, mass destruction. But V... seemed to be taking it quite personally. You knew he was weakened; something was definitely wrong but he wasn’t saying what that was yet. You didn’t want to be rude and ask, but you also wanted to know more about him. It occurred to you that you didn’t know a damn thing about him other than he liked poetry, and that was bothering you a bit.

You hesitated, unsure of how to start the topic to begin with.

Griffon beat you to speaking, his loud squawking voice startling you in the echoing space.

“You sure you’re alright, girlie?” He asked, beak snapping by your ear, “You’re lookin’ a bit pale there. You over doin’ it again?”

You shook your head, griping his talons as you replied, “I’m okay. Not at my limit yet,” You sighed quietly, adding on in a mourning tone, “I’m aching for a shower though.”

You heard V let out a noise before Griffon could reply, saying in a light tone, “You’ve mentioned that more than once now, though I’ve seen you clean yourself with your ability before.”

You blinked, forgetting when you mentioned it last? But you were fairly certain you had mentioned it considering it was bothering you.  

“Huh. I...” How could you explain this? You let out a light sigh, playing with a strand of your hair as you thought of the safest way to respond, “I...It’s strange. I guess I just miss the warmth. Showers are very comforting; I like the feeling of lathering my hair and decompressing. I just...haven’t felt it in a while.”You mentally noted that people who were lonely generally took hot showers because they lacked the warmth of another human, but that was a whole other ball game.

V paused, watching you carefully and weighing your words with a certain curiosity. You took this as your opportunity to ask your own questions, desperate to learn whatever you could about him.

“What about you?” You asked, catching his attention once again, “You seem really personally invested in this stuff with Urizen. Mind you I know he’s a terrible demon and such, but you sometimes sound like you’ve personally taken on the task of stopping him.”

V went quiet for a few long moments, long enough that you started to get worried that you asked something wrong. Anxiety quickly bloomed, hands squeezing Griffon’s talons lightly on your shoulders as you waited for an answer.

When he finally responded, V’s voice was still bemused, but much softer than before.

“It’s... interesting,” He tilted his gaze to meet yours, a few emotions there you didn’t recognize, “Out of everyone I’ve met so far, none of them have really asked what you have. And as for Urizen..." He left out a light chuckle, “Let’s just say he is an...old acquaintance of mine, a calamity born of terrible choices.”

His tone left little room for explanation, so you simply nodded. You didn’t want to push him for information he wasn’t ready to give yet.

“Can I ask something else then?” You said hesitantly, not wanting to risk upsetting him in any way.

He smiled wryly at your tone, “You may.”

“Do you...have any family?” You bit your cheek as soon as the question slipped out. V immediately stopped in his tracks, forcing you to turn and look at him in the darkness of the tunnel.  You got the strangest vibe from V since meeting him, the feeling that he had been neglected before. He always seemed so confused whenever you shared even common decency. Like when you reminded him to eat, or brushed the dust out of his hair. You’d catch a faint look in his eye like not a damn person had ever bothered asking him anything before. The thought was saddening, but you didn’t want to dredge up anything painful and hurt him on accident.

You thought you saw something flicker in his eyes, mouth half open as he met your worried gaze.

“I...had a mother,” He murmured, tone unreadable even to you. He griped his cane tightly, leaning his weight onto it, “She passed away...quite some time ago. I was still a child then.”

You immediately stammered, “I...I’m so sorry...I shouldn’t have asked...It was pretty insensitive of me.”

He smiled at you comfortingly, using his cane to tilt up your chin as he replied, “Please, don’t beat yourself up about it. You are allowed to ask questions, and I did not mind answering,” He gave you a bemused grin, raising a brow as he added, “I hardly think you qualify as anything close to insensitive.”

As you flushed a bit, Griffon yawned, mumbling tiredly from his resting point on your head, “You fucking cried because a big cat became friends with you and you literally will not stop with the food shit. Overly sensitive more like. You’re downright fucking made of sensitive. It’s ridiculous. I thought the poet was bad.”

You blinked at his words, “I...is it annoying?”

“Who fucking cares. Sometimes a group of assholes needs one person who isn't an asshole.” Griffon let out a light peal of laughter, launching off your shoulders and gliding ahead down the hallway. You stared after him, scratching the back of your head as you weighed his words. Was that a positive thing or not?

V chuckled, sensing your inner turmoil as he placed a hand on your shoulder and gently squeezed.

“Don’t mind Griffon,” He murmured, leaning his head down so it was at your ear, "That’s his indirect way of saying he likes your company. He wouldn’t try so hard otherwise.”

You let out a low hum, knowing full well how temperamental the bird could be. But you couldn’t stop your dumb, easily excitable brain from asking the things that didn’t need to be asked.

“What about you?” Your mouth seemed to move of its own accord, warming cheeks not visible in the dim light—you were grateful for that, “Do you enjoy my company?"

You saw pause, smiling that wry, sultry smile as he leveled his gaze on you. Your voice sounded amused and calm, two things you felt neither of. You met his eyes, wondering if he could see past your layers of bullshit and know just how anxious you were for his approval, for Griffon's and Shadow's. 

He didn't say anything, merely tapping the underside of your chin with his silver cane and letting out a chuckle. His mouth tilted up in a half grin before he turned away, heading down to follow Griffin out into a new area of the sewers.

You blinked, touching your neck a bit as you watched him saunter away. You felt warmer today than you had in a long time.  

Shadow sat down on your feet, looking up with their red eyes at you as they let out an inquisitive sound. You gave them a rueful smile, patting their head before you quickly followed after the smug poet. There would always be time to collect yourself later.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's keep this rolling kids, time to get a little wet

_Chapter 7_ **_  
_ **

It felt like you had traveled through the sewers for hours.

Which was a complete nightmare in your opinion. You lost count of all the minor battles you and the others had gotten into. And to be honest—you were beginning to feel the strain. Your limit was increasing, sure, but you also could feel exertion coming in any fight now. The sewer had eventually led your group into a cargo barge. Which was somehow worse. The enemy from early was now above you and the rest of the group, slamming its strange feet through the top roof of the cargo ship and leaving you no choice but to attack it. You hardly had a chance to sit and rest with the poet at all, and both of you were showing the strain. Food was helping in its own way, but it could only do so much with all the fights.

Griffon and Shadow were trying to keep you in high spirits throughout the process, you could tell. Shadow rubbing gently against your legs and Griffon keeping the conversations light and, shockingly, insult free. You appreciated the effort, but you were eager to be free of the underground locations—you enjoyed the open air far more than the stuff, blood-filled stench of the sewers. The exhaustion was also making your filter slip a bit, which was definitely bad. You had to stop yourself from telling V you’d straight up suck his cock for a god damn shower. The poet was laid back, but not enough for you to say that to him. The inside of your cheek was raw from you biting it—it was either that or biting your nails and lips, which was way more visible.

Regardless, you and the others pressed on, only stopping once when your group heard Nero’s voice calling from above you.  

V stopped immediately, gaze darting up to see Nero looking down at all of you from one of the holes punched in the ceiling. He looked a little banged up, out of breath from fighting what looked to be the huge thing from before—you had to give him props. You didn’t even want to begin to touch that thing in a fight, but he seemed to be holding his own fairly well. You heard it collapse moments before, realizing pretty fast just who was fighting the creature in all its glory. Nero was not a quiet battler by any stretch of the word—he was extra and boisterous, and boy did he curse a lot.

He blinked down at all of you, huffing out air as he asked, “What the hell are you guys doing down there?”

Griffon let out a light scoff, gesturing with his beak to the creature weakly moving behind the white-haired boy.

“You didn’t think you did that all by yourself, did ya?” He puffed his feathers up in smug amusement, making you smile a bit. Griffon was a big boaster, but in reality, you guys hadn’t done all that much. Attacking the legs was more out of necessity than anything.

Regardless, Nero didn’t seem impressed. A smirk was on his lips as he crouched down, sword slung over his shoulder as he replied, “Y’kno, I bet you taste like _chicken._ ”

Griffon’s smug amusement immediately turned to annoyance, the bird releasing annoyed huffs as he growled, “Oh, you ungrateful _son of a—_ ”

V stuck out his cane, stopping the bird from flying up at the boy. He seemed unfazed, smirking at their banter. Griffon let out an annoyed grunt and backing down from the conflict, flying back to your shoulders, muttering curses as he angrily settled himself on his favorite perch. You gave him a light pat on the head, smiling ruefully at him when you met his gaze. He and Nero seemed pretty prone to butting heads, you’d have to keep that in mind.

Nero’s gaze slid to you next, looking you over with a hint of worry. That is if you weren’t mistaken, you were pretty worn out and reading people was a bit difficult.  

“How are you holdin’ up, Y/N?” He asked, jerking his chin in your direction, “Is jackass there bothering you?”  

Jackass, in reference to Griffon. The bird let out another angry squawk, glaring daggers at Nero. You smiled up at him, shaking your head no.

“I’m okay,” You replied, giving him a small, albeit friendly wave of your hand, “We’ve been fighting a lot of demons down here.”

Nero let out understanding grunt, squeezing the hilt of his sword, “You’re tellin’ me. It’s been a mad house out here.”

You gave an apologetic smile, watching as V turned a few steps to point his cane up at the creature behind Nero, slowly rising to its huge feet.

“We’ll leave this beast to you,” He said in a light purr, giving Nero a passing glance as he began walking down another tunnel, “We must press on.”

Nero let out a light huff, still wearing that smirk as he rose to his feet again. You managed another wave, turning with Griffon still clinging to your shoulders and muttering to himself. For someone who gave a lot of shit, Griffon seemed pretty easily angered when receiving shit back. You were lucky enough to make peace and now have light banter with the bird—a mutual understanding of sorts. He dished out insults and now you were almost allowed to throw them back, and Griffon got a kick out of it. You were glad for that at least, it made conversations a lot more fun to have.  

“Can believe you waved at that asshole,” Griffon huffed, sounding particularly moody, “Little miss friendly. Little miss nice to everyone. Completely fucking unreal.”

You smiled innocently, giving his head another light pat as you cooed, “Aww does someone need a hug? Was that big bad demon hunter mean to you?”

“Ha ha, look at you the big comedian,” Griffon mocked, puffing out his feathers and snapping his beak by your ear, “When are you takin’ that shit on tour, toots? I’ll buy tickets.”

You laughed, the sound having a bit of a tired edge, “You think I’d make you buy tickets? You shame me, Griffon,” You tapped his talons, letting out a light hum as you added, “I’d get you tickets for you, free of charge.”

He let out a light trill, rolling his eyes as he leaned his head back and squawked mockingly, “I’m touched, I really am.”

You laughed lightly again, knowing the little fight had no weight when Griffon snickered too. V was walking slightly ahead of you, but you think you heard him let out a bemused “ _Hmm_ ” at you both chatting. You quickened your steps to catch up with the poet. You wished you could ease his fatigue a bit, but being so close to exertion was a slippery slope for you both. You didn’t want to be a burden during the fighting, it was best saved for emergencies. Still, you worriedly looked at V as he trudged along, jumping down a hole in the cargo barge and leading into what looked to be—more sewers. You groaned aloud, leaning against a wall and releasing all your inner torment in one long stream.

Griffon let out a light snicker, flapping his wings as he hovered in front of you.

“Ladies and gentlemen—we've lost her,” He announced, seeming pretty damn amused about it, “You wanna lie down and take a nap, toots? Need a hug?” Mocking your comment from earlier it would seem. Joke was on him; you liked hugs and definitely wouldn’t mind one.

You glared at him, though the action had no actual heat, “Laugh it up, bird. But I’d sooner _die_ than lie down on this floor.”

Griffon let out another light peal of laughter, circling back around to V, who was leaning against a wall as well. He had a less than pleased look himself, eyeing your frown with one of his own. One of the few moments you had seen him displeased. He was exhausted too, that much you could definitely tell. He was huffing lightly after a few steps of walking, dark circles under his eyes as he rose a hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose a bit. You felt nervousness swirl in your stomach, debating expending the energy anyway just to help him.

“V...” You began to say, ready to activate your tendrils to latch on to him.

He let out a low, rumbling hum at you, opening his eyes again to skewer you with a sharp gaze. You immediately froze, a worried look in your eyes as you stopped in place.

“Don’t even think about it,” He murmured, eyeing you with a searching gaze of his own as he tipped his cane in your direction, “You’re reaching your own limits, I can tell.”  

“Yeah?” You countered in a challenging tone, “And how can you tell that? Not that you’re right.”

He let out a light “Hmm” at you, raising a brow at your defensive tone.

“Because I know you,” He replied in a smug voice, “Had you actually had energy to spend, you would have done it before now.”

You let out a low mumble, hating that he was right. You pushed off from the wall, eyeing your surroundings with displeasure as you contemplated if you and your group should just find a place to rest. You had spent a good portion of time down there—it had to be night sooner or later. Though the only thing stopping you now was the fact that sewers were crawling with demons, there were no safe places to rest. Sleeping out in the open was definitely not a smart thing to do, a risk not worth taking after such a long day of fighting. If you could get skyward, you could find maybe an abandoned apartment and crash there. Or maybe call Nico and see if she would let you crash in the van.  

V, however, had different plans. He pushed off from the wall as well, pointing his cane down at the ground. You watched Shadow turn their head, immediately turning back into their normal essence at V’s feet. You blinked, wondering just what the hell he was doing. He gripped the cane, pressing it into the cloud of essence before turning and holding his hand out to you.  

“Here,” He said in that sultry purr, offering you a half smile, “This will make for faster travel.”

You blinked in confusion, taking his hand but hesitating to step onto what you knew was damn well Shadow underneath his feet.

“This won't hurt Shadow will it?” You said nervously, gaze still down on the floor.

He gave your hand a light squeeze, his skin warm and the sensation making your stomach do a quick flip. Whoops, that probably wasn’t a good sign. Your brain needed to calm down.

“They won’t feel any pain,” He promised, tugging you forward so you were forced to step onto the essence as well, “This form has many uses."

The sensation you felt upon stepping onto the swirling essence was strange—like is was both hard yet not at the same time. You tested your weight, still worried about the cat’s well-being underneath you and V. You trusted the poet, but it was still in your nature to feel concern about it. Much to your continued surprise, V pulled you closer to him. Right against him, in fact. You were suddenly right against his back, the goth pulling your arms around his waist so you were hugging him from behind. Oh _no._ Your heartbeat immediately went crazy, pounding in your chest. His height was vastly different from yours, your face pressed into his upper back as his hands released you.

“Hold on tight.” He said in a soft, sultry voice, your eyes catching a glimpse of that half smirk as he turned away. He seemed pretty amused, but from where your hands were you could feel his heart beating fast. You blinked—maybe that was from him exerting himself?

You didn’t dwell on it long. You heard Griffon let out a low, amused chortle, catching his knowing gaze just a moment before his dissolved back into his Master’s form. You fought a groan—Griffon totally caught you red faced and dazed at being so close to the god damn sandal-wearing goth. You were going to hear about that later, you knew that much. You were lucky Griffon at least had tact in that department, he rarely said embarrassing shit in front of V about it. Rarely. That little quip earlier when he returned from death was still pretty unwarranted. Bastard bird wasn't going to make things easy on you.

Regardless.

V suddenly tilted his cane forward, sending your thoughts careening away from your musings as you and he were moving fast through the sewer. You gasped, griping the goth tighter as you sped along, staring in wonder at the ground as it swept by. Shadow was a swirling mass under you both, gliding you and V quickly through the winding tunnels, through new locations you hadn’t seen yet. Your foresight flared a couple of times, but the goth made it past a lot of the barriers before they could even form. Thank god for that at least; you couldn’t take being covered in anymore demon guts and blood. You sighed softly. The time in the Void had definitely taken some of your stamina and strength—you remembered being able to fight for a whole day without rest before. Not being able to do so now was understandable but frustrating.

You contented yourself in enjoying the moment, resting your face against V’s back and closing your eyes. It was easy to tell this close how skinny he was—his wiry frame shifted and moved under your hands, tilting when you needed to turn. The leather of his vest still managed to smell nice, fresh in a way despite all the fighting. With Griffon not present, you could luckily rest as much as you want without feeling too embarrassed about clinging to V. The poet didn’t seem to mind either, although you couldn’t see his face. You hoped this wasn’t hindering him in anyway.

This new form of travel made quick work of finally, blessedly, leaving the sewers. You let out a delighted gasp as you finally neared a tunnel with brighter light, a low hole open in the ceiling that was big enough for you to pass through. To your slight disappointment, you could see rain pattering through the hole instead of the sun, but that was heavily welcome over the dank warmth of the tunnels. You felt V turn an arm, wrapping it around your waist as Shadow sent you both launching out of the hole, into the fresh, damp air. Water pattered on your face the instant you landed, a cry of delight leaving you as you plopped down on the ground and tilted your head back. Thank the lord, the choir, and all the angels. Rain had never felt so damn good.

You heard V let out a chuckle, sitting down on a piece of nearby rubble as Shadow reformed, letting out a disgruntled roar and shaking the rain out of their fur. You tried to focus less on the goth with rain pattering on his form and more on the mighty cat now that it was back. They immediately trotted over to you, sitting by your feet and blinking away the rain. You smiled as they stared at your face, rubbing a hand over their moistened fur. They seemed no worse for wear after their little gliding trip, which was a good thing. Only problem was now that it was raining out, you were all on a quick path to wet clothes and the risk of colds. Mind you, it was still fairly comfortable temperature wise, you still didn’t want to take any chances.

Griffon reappeared as well, letting out a disgusted squawk as the rain began to soak him.

“Ahh _fuck!_ This _blows_ ,” He hissed, gliding over and ducking under Shadow for cover. The cat grunted, forced to stand on all fours to accommodate him, “ _I hate the god damn rain...!”_

You smiled, fully understanding why he as a bird wouldn’t like it. Getting wet was always rough on the feathers, it probably made it hard for him to fly. You looked down at him huddled under the cat, his feathers beaded with rain water. He shook himself out, splattering you with some of it and making you chuckle.  

V let out a low hum, running a hand through his hair. You blinked up at him, hating how much you enjoyed the sight of his black hair, dripping wet and half moved back and away from his pale face. Bad, you reminded yourself. You were being bad. You looked away, but not before you noticed water droplets dripping down his neck, over his tattoos. And not before Griffon noticed you noticing.

He let out another low chortle as V stood, the wry man rolling his shoulders and starting forward again. Griffon quickly flapped his wings, flying up so he could land on your shoulders as you rose to follow. His beak was at your ear the next instant, his voice in a low, amused hiss.

“Looks like _somebody_ was already wet long before the rain started.” His tone had a sing-song edge, beak so close it brushed your ear.  

You immediately put a hand to your mouth to hide a squeak, a shocked expression on your face as you turned to look at the bird. You made a shushing motion, embarrassment and annoyance filling you as you gave him a glance promising violence. Griffon chortled again, both of you looking at V to see if he had noticed. Which, luckily, it appeared not to be the case. He was still strolling forward, eyes locked on what appeared to be a phone booth resting against a building’s wall. You tried not to focus on what Griffon said, glancing around at your surroundings. Back in the city again, only this appeared to be a courtyard of sorts. A few husks were here, which made you wince, and several abandoned cars and broken pavement.  

You quickly caught up to V, feeling pretty renewed now that the rain was washing over you. Though you felt bad Griffon and Shadow didn’t seem to enjoy it. As for you, you were sure the feeling of wet clothes would start to bother you once it reached your panties and the insides of your shoes. V seemed unaffected by it, but you could definitely tell he was winded now that you were in bright light. No more fights for the day, or at least you hoped. The sky was darkening a bit, so you were hoping once you called Nico you guys could find a place to bunker down and dry off.  

“Gonna call Nico?” You asked when V entered the phone booth, shaking out his hair a bit.

“Yes.” He replied, already dialing the number. You leaned against the phone booth, tilting your face toward the sky and closing your eyes as the rain pattered down on you. Hair already soaked, which was fine. Not exactly a shower, but you would take the feeling of sewers being washed away however you could. You ran your hands through your sopping locks, pushing them back a bit and letting out a light sigh. The day had gone by so fast, but the lovely morning of waking up curled with all your new companions felt so long ago. You doubted it could happen again if you found a place with more than one place to rest, and you half hoped you would only find one bed again. A stupid thought, an impulsive thought. You opened your eyes again, smiling wistfully as you internally scolded yourself.

You thought you felt someone staring at you, and confirmed it when you turned and caught V’s gaze moving away, body moving back to the phone as it dialed the mechanic. You blinked—had he been watching you?

He suddenly spoke, probably due to Nico picking up the phone.

“Hey, we can use a hand.” He said simply, tone low and smooth.

“Yeah yeah, I’ll head on over.” Nico sounded only slightly annoyed—you knew she was eager for the progress report on the daggers you had used. The annoyance held no weight.  

You slid down on one side of the phone booth to wait, closing your eyes and humming a quiet tune as the wait for Nico’s arrival would start. You half wondered what elaborate entrance she would make this time, but you knew your imagination was not that creative. Shadow decided to plop their mighty head on your lap, making you grunt softly, but happily as they too closed their eyes to get some rest. V slid down on the other side of the phone booth, setting his cane down on the pavement. You were disappointed—you couldn’t see his face this way. As for Griffon, he was the only one who seemed content enough with sitting in the dry phone booth, entering a bird position of rest as beads of water pattered from his puffed-out frame. He looked pretty grumpy, so you decided on leaving him alone.

The silence stretched peacefully for a few moments, broken only by the soft falling of rain. You wanted to say something, but you weren’t sure what.

Shockingly, it was V who broke the silence.

“Tell me, Y/N,” His voice was soft and smooth, head tilted back against the phone booth as rain continued to soak the both of you, “You asked me about my family...but what of yours? You mentioned to Griffon you didn’t remember them...did you grow up alone?”

You felt yourself hesitate, unable to figure out how to answer his question.

“Hmm...” You murmured lightly, clasping your hands in your lap, “It’s hard to say.” The answer to his question felt like a yes, but also a no. You grew up with parents, but you were still alone...trying to remember sent a pain through your skull, energy flaring and commanding that such actions were a firm no.

You pressed a hand to your temple, tone slightly strained as you replied, “I had parents growing up...but they weren’t kind ones. I think in a way I did grow up alone...but I don’t remember much of anything.” Not a lie, at least that’s what you told yourself. How could you be fully truthful if you didn’t remember the truth yourself?

V let out a small sound of understanding, turning his head to look at you. The sight of rain water glistening on his black lashes sent your heart into a frenzy.

“You seem to have a problem with memory,” He said, not in an accusing tone. More observant, curious, “Is there any reason for that?”

You hesitated again, unsure of how much to share.

“I...” You didn’t want to keep with the half truths. You didn’t like to lie. You squeezed your right wrist with your left hand, hard enough that your nails dug in.  

_Pain is a reminder._

“The Deity I get my power from,” Your voice was low, eyes tired as you smiled wistfully and stared ahead, “He removed a lot of my memories...It was to help me cope with trauma. I still...feel them there, like residue traces. It's like a ghost of a memory remains...all the emotions and feelings that came with it but without substance. Cut in half.”

V paused again, causing worry to settle in your frame. You couldn’t bring yourself to look back at his face.

When he spoke his tone was soft, filled with a deep curiosity, “Fascinating,” He murmured, sending a bit of relief pouring through you, “This Deity...you’ve actually spoken to it? How far back do you remember?”

You tapped your fingers on your arm, glancing down to see you were bleeding slightly from your own nails. You tilted your wrist down, holding it again as you thought over a good response.

“I have,” You replied, now deciding to peek over at him. He was becoming absolutely soaked, black hair clinging to his face and dripping water all over. His jade eyes met your, searching and filled with a deep fascination—the sight made your heart pound a little faster, words a little looser, “He shows himself to me on occasion, talks to me. As for my memories...it varies. If you’re wondering if I’m going to suddenly forget you guys the answer is no, it's just my past memories that are effected.” You would not let the Deity erase your memories of them, even if this place somehow managed to break you.

V nodded once, turning his gaze back and closing his eyes from the rain. You blinked—had you seen relief there in his expression before he turned away? Regardless, that half smile was on his lips now, softening his features. You had to let out a slow breath to steady yourself, pressing your hands to your cheeks and closing your eyes. You needed to get a grip, you needed to focus. You thought you heard Griffon let out another low chuckle, but you weren’t going to look at him to confirm it. He needed to behave himself too. As it was, Shadow was being a good cat, snoozing in your lap and ignoring the steady patter of rain on their fur. You appreciated their silent support.

After a few more seconds of waiting you hear a low rumble and the sound of tires. You blinked tiredly when V tapped the phone booth was his cane to alert everyone, rising to his feet with a low grunt. You scratched Shadow behind the ears once before stretching your legs and arms out, letting out a light groan of strain. God, you could use a nap, in an actual bed. Warm, fresh sheets and a cool fan blowing. You shook your head, looking up to see V holding a hand out to help you up. You took it, rising to your feet and giving his fingers a light squeeze. His support was always appreciated, always there to put a little more pep back in your step.

He smiled at you, releasing your hand just as Nico’s van came bursting through the ground.

Both you and V whipped around, taking several steps back as the mobile home shoot out, quickly leaning forward and slamming onto the pavement on all four wheels. You heard Griffon let out a startled squawk, looking at the new hole in the ground and at the now present van. You had to agree with him—you didn’t know how the fuck Nico pulled this shit off, or why, but it was definitely impressive. You just worried one of these days that she was gonna hurt herself by doing it. Or hit you or the others with the van without trying to.

You exchanged an exasperated glance with V, who merely gave a light shrug and started toward the van. As he did so, Nico opened the driver’s side window, half sticking her head out to look at you and the poet.

“Hurry it up!” She yelled in her southern drawl, looking pretty frazzled, “I’ve gotta go stop by dipshit next! He’s all out of arms again!”  

V let out a low hum, stepping into the van when the mechanic threw a towel at his face. He caught it with a grunt, giving her  a raised brow as she crossed her arms.

“No dripping on my floor!” She growled, pointing a finger at him, “Now make it fast.”

“Certainly.” V still sounded amused, all things considered. He towel dried his hair lightly as he walked to the back of the van to use the statue. You opted on staying outside, leaning against the van and giving Nico a friendly smile and wave. You definitely didn’t want to risk getting water on anything.  

Nico approached you eagerly, poking her head out of the van to address you.

“How were those daggers?” She asked without pleasantries. Which you expected.

You pulled one out, giving it a light twirl as you hummed, “Very interesting. They provide an effect that does blue fire damage to demons. If I stab them enough, they explode.”

Nico looked downright delighted, nodding eagerly and smirking with the pride of a true artist.

“Hell yeah!” She exclaimed, giving you a pat on the back, “Keep that shit up—I'm cookin’ up somethin’ real excitin’ from that fancy crystal you gave me.”

You nodded once, the action sending water droplets flying off your hair. It seemed to occur to Nico that you were still standing out in the rain, looking pretty drenched at a little tired. Her excited expression slipped to one that was more concerned, her gaze shifting between you and V as he did his thing back at the statue.  

“You doin’ alright?” She asked you, placing a single hand on your soaked head, “You’re fuckin’ drenched. Hate to say it, but you look like shit.”

You let out a light laugh at that, “You’re right and you should say it. We’re probably gonna find somewhere to sleep for the night soon.”

She still looked worried, “Is there anythin’ ya need? Wait—hold that thought.” She turned back into her van, rummaging through some drawers and the like beyond your view. You let out a light breath, patiently waiting for her return and for V to be done. The rain was beginning to soak through your clothes, a previous speculation confirmed when you shifted in discomfort. Wet clothes were not fun, nor welcome. Once you got the energy back you could dry yourself, but waiting in this personal hell until them was not very encouraging. And stripping down to let stuff dry definitely wasn’t an option.

Nico returned a moment later with what appeared to be a grocery bag filled with items you couldn’t see. She sat down on the steps of her mobile home, handing it to you as you sat down as well. Unlike with V, she said nothing about you dripping on her van.

“Consider that a girlie care package,” She said in a low voice, cupping a hand near her mouth so only you could hear, “Got some stuff in there for ya—I know how shit goes.”

You blinked, holding the bag in the van so it didn’t get wet. You were pretty sure you saw a towel in the bag, some bandages, a few little toiletry things like tampons and the like. You blinked—there were a pair of clean panties in there too. Nico definitely thought ahead. You looked up at her with a grateful expression, met with a smug one of her own.

“I always keep shit in the van,” She replied, leaning back on her arms and tilting her gaze to meet yours, “Never know when I or someone else might need it. You sure you and the goth don’t wanna just rest in the van tonight? I’ve got spare clothes.”

You smiled ruefully, looking in the distance where a bundle of Qliphoth roots were resting.

“We have to destroy those first,” You replied, “And you have to go help Nero.”

Nico scoffed, “I’ll swing by and pick his dumb ass up and come back. How about you and mister poet meet us the second street over on the train tracks in like an hour?”

You paused. To be truthful, that sounded more appealing than resting in someone’s abandoned home. The mobile home would be cramped, so you hoped V and the others would be okay with it too. Regardless, you nodded, offering the mechanic a tired smile and wringing out your hair a bit.

“That would be lovely,” You replied, which made her smile in relief, “We’ll destroy the roots and wait for you there.”

Nico gave a light nodded, patting you on the back before hopping to her feet. Just as she did, V came walking back to the side door, handing Nico back the towel before he stepped back into the rain again. You made quick work of summoning the bag back from before and depositing the new contents inside before you followed after him. The door slid shut behind you as you stood, absorbing the bag back and turning to face the now-wet poet again.  

Nico called out the window at you, “Remember to meet me in an hour!” Before closing it again and pressing on the gas. Her van was skidding off into the distance within moments, leaving you and your group alone once more. You let out a light sound of amusement, meeting V’s usual bemused gaze before turning in the direction of the roots.

“We’re meeting Nico later?” V questioned as you started forward with him, giving his cane a light twirl before tapping it on the ground.

“Mhm,” You nodded lightly, clasping your hands behind your back as Griffon landed on your shoulders, “I hope you don’t mind, I agreed to us staying with her and Nero tonight.”

He let out a low hum, tilting his gaze forward as he replied, “No objections from me.”

You smiled in relief, looking away from him and quickening your step. The faster you destroyed the Qliphoth roots, the faster you and the poet could get some well needed rest. Though as you walked, you realized that shit would never come easy, not by a long shot. 

Your foresight began to flare as you neared an archway, hissing voices heard nearby. Your heart began to pound at the prospect of another god damn battle, also mingled with annoyance. You were tired of fighting for the day, that was definitely sure. Regardless, V pressed himself against a nearby wall to hide, pulling you to the side and pressing his cane over your chest to hold you back. Joke was on him; you definitely had no intentions of getting caught.

You caught sight of whatever the fuck the thing was before ducking into cover, and it was pretty ugly. It looked like a three-part woman attached to a gross, deformed giant chicken. With writhing mandibles and claws coming from its body, saliva dripping from its maw. Yikes. In front of it stood what looked to be a powerful demon on horseback, wielding what looked to be a lightning sword atop an equally-fancy looking horse. Oh no. Oh, that looked bad. You didn’t like the sight of this one bit, foresight flaring in an alarming way as V listened on to what they were saying.

“Malphas....of course, more trouble,” Griffon growled at your feet, sticking his dumb beak out to glare at the two creatures. He peered at the horseback guy with beady eyes, continuing much too loudly for your tastes, “Not sure about that one, though. Never seen him before, not in the Underworld any—”

You quickly grabbed him before V could, holding your hand around his beak and cradling him against you almost like an angry cat. V put a finger to his lips in a shushing motion, eyeing the bird then you before turning to look back at the obvious threats. You had no idea who Malphas was, but she was a scary looking enemy and you already decided you didn’t like her. Hell, you didn’t like this whole situation. So much for your group killing a simple bundle of roots and moving on. You had to admit, you excepted things to go wrong some way or another. Only this time it was cutting into your much needed rest and relaxation. You were wet, grumpy, and certainly in no mood to fight a glorified naked bird.

Regardless, Malphas was talking.

She was rasping at the rider in a strange, warbled tone of voice, black eyes staring him down with firm intensity.  

“Search for the devil sword Sparda," She growled, body glowing with demonic energy, "You know where it is...He told me to leave it be, but I'm afraid it still concerns me."

The devil sword Sparda? You had no idea what the hell that was, but the term made V squeezed his cane tightly so hard his knuckles turned white, eyes alight with interest. It sent your heart pounding again, realizing that this may actually be a fight V didn’t want to walk away from. Griffon let out a muffled, quiet squawk at the name of the sword as well, eyes wide as they looked over to the poet watching this scene unfold. Even Griffon seemed concerned, so you had to wonder just what the fuck it all meant.

“As long as there is a blood descendant of Sparda...I cannot take any chances.” Maplphas continued, drawing your attention again. Who was Sparda? And who was the descendant? Your confusion only grew.  

“Do you understand?!” The woman’s screeching voice made you jump a bit, leaning back against the wall, “Find it, and destroy it! Only then will his reign be truly realized...!” You assumed “He” was Urizen, which was pretty much the only thing that made any sense to you.

The rider never replied to the deranged demon, silence following her words. You watched as she walked forward through a purple, swirling portal, disappearing out of view in a flash. One threat gone, but the rider still remained. And much to your absolute displeasure, V stepped out from his hiding spot. You released Griffon, instantly stepping up beside him to make sure he didn't do something absolutely stupid. You realized right away that the driven, focused look was back in his eyes, like he didn’t seem to realize you were there for a moment. You, Griffon, and Shadow took up places  beside him, your foresight signaling you that danger was going to happen if you proceeded, but there was no stopping that.

V tapped his cane on the ground with a heavy, metalic sound. It made the rider turn, a low growl coming from its throat as it readied its weapon with a burst of purple, crackling energy. The horse under it reared with a loud whiny, eyes glowing a firey blue as the creatures now faced you. Bad, this felt bad. You had no idea how to handle this.  

“I see. I know what you are.” V’s voice was a low, sultry tone. His expression was alight with anticipation, staring the creature down and griping the top of his cane.

He lifted the silver rod and tapped the handle onto the palm of his hand, tilting his head to the side as he murmured a sultry, threatening tone.

“Don’t worry...I’ll be gentle."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im sorry this one got out so late, its a long one

_Chapter 8_

That line alone was enough to send your heart pounding into a frenzy.  

_I’ll be gentle._

This was neither the time not place to feel turned on by the poet, but his words of challenge sent a warm feeling ablaze in your stomach. You were sure your face was red, but you moved so fast that nobody had a chance to notice. Battle now, focus on your horrible train of thoughts later—the horseman was attacking. You summoned tendrils from your body, shooting to the side and trying to wrap them around the horse’s feet as you ran. It drew its attention to you, the creature turning with an angry shriek as the rider’s eyes settled blankly on your battle-ready form. This left him open to V’s attacks, or rather, Griffon and Shadow’s. You saw V whip out his book of poetry, pointing the cane with his free hand. His eyes were so focused on the battle, expression almost entranced as he ordered the two to attack.

Griffon went flying over the horseman, slamming lightning into the ground with a maniac cackle of delight. He focused a ball of lightning, sending a huge burst of bright purple out to slam into the stoic rider. You let out a low whistle—Griffon had some new attacks. Shadow did as well, descending on the pair of enemies and turning into a set of spinning blades. The horseman tried to defect it with its strange, bladed weapon, but there was only so much you could do to hold back a spinning black mass of angry panther. He and the horse ended up hit, rearing back with angry grunts of pain. You used that moment of distraction to send tendrils lashing out like whips, aiming for the legs of the creature this demon was riding. It appeared less than pleased, turning to fix you in place with glowing blue eyes and fire dripping from its maw.

Yikes.

It reared back again, sending out a blue orb of an attack that exploded into a dome on impact, right over you. You turned to dash to the side, but found yourself moving in slow motion. Your eyes jerked up in shock, seeing the rider turn in real time to point his weapon at you. Several shots of lightning orbs came hurtling your way, you just barely managing to make it out of the dome in enough time to dodge. You spiraled over the ground, landing in a low slide as the attack meant for you sent explosions all over the pavement and nearby buildings. That definitely wasn't good. You were sure the horse leveled that one, not the man on his back. The demon horse had some fancy skills, that was for sure.

You heard Griffon let out a startled noise as he watched this happen, swooping down to snatch you and get you out of the way of another dome attack. He brought you around to the other side, depositing you beside Shadow before flying away to attack on his own again. You shot a glance at V, seeing a peculiar expression on his face as he looked up from his book, seeing the way these creatures fought and what kind of attacks they had. He looked troubled, but a look of understanding passed over his eyes as he snapped his fingers, sending Nightmare slamming out of a portal in the sky and landing right on the rider and his horse. You winced—that had to hurt. Nightmare was a heavy boy, and falling from that height gave him some oomph.  

“Be careful V!” Griffon squawked from overhead, swinging around to send lightning over the battlefield, "He's got horsepower!"

“I’ll take that momentum...and send it right back.” V replied in that silken tone, only now having the edge of battle.  

You rolled your eyes at the bird’s pun, sweeping back around to try and keep the agro off the poet while he read. You summoned more tendrils, grabbing onto the horse’s back legs while it bucked and kicked to try and snap them. The momentum made you grunt, arms straining from holding fast. The horse was very strong and determined, oddly enough stronger than Nidhogg. You planted your feet into the ground, heels of your boots skidding over the earth as the horse whipped around and tried to snap your attack away. The rider fixed his gaze on you again, shooting several warning shots at you as you flipped away. Shit, this was not gonna be a fun fight. You felt a cloud of icy air leave your lungs, your hand grasping your chest as you slid back from the creature and met V’s gaze.

You were close to your limits.  

V gave you a look of understanding before addressing the battlefield again, eyes cold and focused as he circled the bucking horse, your tendrils now falling away now that you had taken a step back to breath. Nightmare was shooting lasers out of his eye, lines of explosions traveling past you and just far enough away that you didn’t get hurt, thankfully. Nightmare at least had good aim. Griffon circled over you nervously, shooting lightning at the horseman from afar while also seemingly staying close to make sure he could help you if need be. Touching, really. But V was the target of the horse’s gaze now, dodging three separate domes of whatever that ability was before pointing his cane to make Shadow attack. The mighty cat reared its head to roar, sending a folly of spikes down the battlefield.

Much to your shock, the rider on the horse finally spoke. He turned that empty gaze to V, voice a deep rasp as he addressed the sandal wearing goth.

 _“Weak, powerless creatures._ ” It said simply, sending a shower of electric orbs in his direction. Griffon darted over to pull V out of the way, entering a time-slowing dome in just enough time to rescue the poet. Worry was filling you now—this battle was bad for your anxiety, that was for sure.

Griffon let out a cocky chuckle at the creature’s words, dropping V back down and sneering lightly, “Oh ho! So? You got a comeback for that?”

V let out a low hum, head tilted and gaze still set on the enemy as he replied, _“One thought fills immensity.”_

Griffon let out an annoyed groan, sleeping past the poet as he squawked, “This is not the time for poetry!” He paused, confusion entering his tone as he added, “Wait, what does that even mean?”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” V replied in a low purr, whipping his book back out again once Nightmare disappeared, “Now let’s go!”

His words made you huff lightly, rolling your shoulders and testing your tendrils out of your hands. You could afford to expend a little more, you needed to help however you could. Or else Griffon’s first words would have been right—you didn’t want to become dead weight on them. If you extended, Nico would be back within the hour and you could rest. Then tomorrow was another day, you could all set out and get shit done as needed. You grit your teeth, sending as many tendrils as you could spare over to V, passing him some energy before he could notice and scold you. You saw him gasp, eyes jerking over to look at you just as the tendrils left him. You saw several emotions passing over his face, but a calm smile remained on yours. You weren’t done, not yet. Just a little bit more.

The rider sent the horse rearing back, slamming back down and sending a shock wave of lightning over the floor. You leapt back, clinging to a light pole by your tendrils to avoid the attack. The horse let out an unholy screech, blowing clouds of steam out its nostrils as several dome attacks shot out of his mouth, landing near you, on V, and off to the side. V grunted, body motion slowed as he turned and lifted his cane for Griffon to grab him. They narrowly dodged more lightning, coming to a sliding halt outside the dome. V scowled a bit—it was an interesting expression on his usually soft face. A part of his long coat had been singed on the bottom. He missed that attack in a very narrow window, it would seem.

“The power to control time...” He murmured, rolling his shoulders as he walked to the side, pulling out his poetry again. You had to give him credit, he was flawless in execution when it came to putting the book away and taking it out again, “That’s quite a horse.”

Griffon let out a sound of agreement, but his tone was perplexed as he replied, “But that would mean it’s Geryon! I thought Dante killed it already!”

Dante, the devil-hunter your group was trying to help save. If he could kill this horse, he had to be impressive.

V let out a low hum of agreement, jade eyes fixed on said horse as he replied, “A rare species, but apparently not quite extinct,” He gave a half smirk, a cocky expression on his face as he added, “Until today, that is.”

You rolled your eyes at the both of them, calling over, “Focus now, exposition later."

You thought you heard V laugh, but you weren’t sure. Griffon was easy to tell, a loud snort leaving him as he swept past you.

The fight didn’t seem to last as long as you had anticipated, and it was strangely going off without a hitch. You provided back-up however you could, some tendrils attached to V here and there to help get him away, one snapping through the battlefield to trip up some of the horse’s legs. V had found a system of sorts you both were following—you'd protect him as he read his poems, charging himself with enough power to summon Nightmare. Seeing the creature made you wistful—he had such big arms, perfect for hugging, but you only ever saw him during fights.   You rarely got the chance to talk to him either, or interact at all. You were determined to get a hug from the big, hulking creature at some point. As with the other familiars, you were determined now. But it wasn’t the time to focus on it, the fight was coming to a steady end.

Or so you thought.  

The horse was wheezing and panting as the attacks of the familiars slammed into it, still trying to whip around and attack even as its back legs buckled. You would have felt bad if the horse hadn’t tried to kill you all at first glance. You knew it was finished, leaning against a light pole as V approached the defeated beast. He was looking a pretty exhausted, but that smile was still on his face as he readied his cane. He darted forward, Griffon lifting him up just as the horse reared its mighty head, staring at him with profound hated as V slammed his cane into its neck. It released a scream of agony, bright blue sparks filling the air as the rider slumped forward on it and V let out a sharp grunt of exertion. You let out a light breath, not paying as much attention as you should. Not watching as much as you should.

_You should have been watching._

V smirked in the horse’s face, his voice a breathy purr as he quoted, _“The hours of folly are measur’d by the clock, but of wisdom—no clock can measure,"_ He whipped the cane out of its neck in a shower of blue particles, illuminating his face as growled, “Die!”  

The horse let out a dying gurgle. Head whipping around as its body began to crumble into purple sparks. You thought it would end there, you thought it would be like every other fight, a fight where V would wipe his hands of the enemy and you’d be on your way. But you hadn’t been paying attention enough, body tired and slowed by you being close to reaching exertion. When your eyes finally looked up to realize you were mistaken, it was too late for you or Griffon to stop it from happening. Your gaze locked on V as he landed the finishing blow, foresight flaring heavily without warning and the realization kicking in that something was about to go terribly wrong.

As V was pulling out the cane, the horse’s eyes glowed for the last time. He let out a rasping screech, rearing back his and releasing what you realized too late was one last time stopping attack. V fell back in slow motion, eyes going wide when the realization set in. You heard Griffon let out an alarmed shout, moving at the same time as you to grab the poet. But the rider was faster. In his remaining strength he lifted his weapon, sending it slamming into V’s upper shoulder and chest. All the breath left your lungs in a scream, energy flaring to send tendrils up to shoot through the riders shoulders and arms. He let out a grunt of pain, retracting the blades and sending V flying away with a kick. Both slid away from the horse’s disintegrating body.

You heard V’s pained cry, his body caught by Griffon’s talons and slowly set down on the ground. You felt your eyes burn, panic filling you when you saw a nasty wound dripping blood from his right shoulder, blood tracking down his black tattoos. The rider collapsed, weakened and battered before making a hasty retreat away. He managed to clear the crumbling brambles, the path he took blocked by the debris in an instant. You saw V try to stand, alarm filling you as you darted to his side and instantly summoned the bag of materials Nico had given you. _Bad bad_. This was bad. You were starting to feel the exertion, hands trembling as you fumbled for bandages, for anything that could help. You could feel your heart roaring in your ears, mind going numb at the sight of his blood dripping onto concrete.

“ _V._..!” Your tone echoed the panic in your brain, cracking like you were on the verge of tears.

 _“You fucking idiot_!” Griffon screeched at V, holding the poet back when he tried to stand, _"Don’t fucking move dumbass!”_

"I’m...fine...” V said in a weak, breathless tone, “I must chase him...! If the devil sword Sparda still exists...It may very well be our only hope...!”

Again with that stupid god damn sword. It was the bane of your existence at that moment.

“If you haven’t noticed you’re _bleeding all over the fucking place_!” Griffon snapped while your mouth was frozen in panic. You could barely breath, you didn’t know what to do. You were so close to breaking yourself with your power, how the hell were you supposed to heal him without making yourself useless? This kind of a wound went through and through, it would take steady hours of energy transference.  

“He....he can’t stay here...” Your voice was shaking, eyes meeting the poet’s with pure panic. Your foresight was flaring wildly out of control, signaling oncoming danger still in the area, “We need to move...!”

You no sooner spoke when a rumbling echo filled the air, making the ground tremble. From the tunnel you exited out of you saw demons rising out in the distance. Dozens of them. All the ones you had bypassed before seemed to want to follow, smelling the blood of the poet now as it steadily dripped down, mingling with the still-falling rain water. You had nowhere to go—the way forward was blocked and the way back was blocked by them as they steadily approached. There was no hiding the smell, no hiding at all. Things had gone from seemingly manageable to completely wrecked in an instant, your mind reeling at the prospect of V dying to your incompetence. _Think think think._ You had to think. You had been through these scenarios before, there had to be a solution.  

You looked at Griffon, seeing fear in his glowing gold eyes for once instead of mischief. Shadow immediately whipped around to stand in front of you all, baring its teeth in warning to the slowly approaching demons. You realized belatedly that in this fight, all they could do was attack. They couldn't kill demons, and V couldn't be left to bleed out on the floor. You let out a low, sharp curse, pulling off your top and turning back to the poet. You wrapped it around the wound, hating how his eyes were already closing tiredly from the blood loss. The pressure on his open would made him gasp in pain, eyes opening again as he clutched at the spot. His pallor was already bad, teeth gritted in agony and gaze meeting yours.  

“I’m sorry,” He breathed, “This was my error.”

You shook your head, pressing on the wound again before looking around at your surroundings. There was a door nearby to what looked like a small apartment with a garage attached. The garage was open just enough to pull V through, and that seemed the easiest place to go at the moment. You needed to make a choice, and make it fast—you already knew what needed to be done. Nico wouldn’t be back from the other side of the city with Nero for another forty minutes or so, and you were more than willing to break yourself to keep people safe. You had done it before.

You saw V’s eyes close, head lolling back a bit as he slipped in and out of consciousness. Your heart pounded faster, adrenaline filling you now. You were running out of time.

“Get him in there!” You pointed to the garage, tone leaving no room for argument as you looked at Griffon, “When you do keep pressure on the wound! You and Shadow make sure nothing gets through...!”  

 _“What?!_ ” He screeched, alarm in his tone as you stood, giving your shoulders a light roll, _“Don’t be a dumbass too! You can’t take that many demons you moron!”_

“I can take it,” You breathed, the cold chill of the Void filling your lungs as you took a few steps away from them. You spared a look back, heart squeezing at the sight of V with his eyes closed and face still filled with pain. It was better he didn’t see; it was better he not witness you. You turned again, determination filling you as the demons neared the courtyard. Sacrifices must be made, a price to be paid, “Just go, Griffon!”

You heard the bird release a stream of curses, but blessedly he started dragging the poet away. Shadow let out a worried, small sound of a roar at you.  You looked back again, knowing what the cat would see when you met its gaze. You saw its red eyes blink at you, seeing the black of your pupils expand, swallowing your irises and whites until only the black remained. The cat took a step back, bowing its head a bit before turning and grabbing V’s collar, helping the bird quickly drag him away. You let out a slow, trembling breath, feeling Griffon’s gaze on you. He would see, but you would have to trust him to keep his mouth shut about you were about to do.

Your gaze drifted back to the demons, hand instinctively pulling out one of your new daggers as you faced them. They walked to your sides, in front, meaning to corner you and attack all at once. They would not get the chance. You tipped your head, face deadly calm as you lifted the dagger, feet planted firmly as the energy inside flared, the exertion hitting you but halted by the words ready to exit your mouth. Cold, echoing over the rain, echoing across dimensions. You had spoken these words before, but when? That cut on your palm belonged there—you stared at it, echoes of memories crawling up your spine. It was a sacrifice to be made, for the price of pain.  

You lifted the dagger, sliding the sharp edge over the scar, black eyes staring down the demons as you spoke, words written in obsidian.

 _“Spirit of the deep, Siren of dreams,_ ” You didn’t feel the blade, but pain burst in the rest of your being. Still, your words never wavered. You had done this before after all, “ _He of all things. Of cradle songs and bones gnawed by teeth._ ”

An eerie feeling settled over the clearing. The demons all froze as a low, hushed sound echoed from all around. Your hair began to rise, the red of your blood dripping from your palm and onto the pavement. One drip. Two. Then three. Then four. You counted until six had fallen, clouds of icy air leaving your lungs and forming fog around you. The rain pattering all around slowed, droplets beginning to rise around your form with several pieces of pavement and debris. The Void was here, in all things, whispered in the cracks of space and time. A dark place, a reminder all should heed. You heard the familiar, distance howl of tormented voices fill the air, sending shivers up your spine. You wished you didn’t have to put Griffon and Shadow through this.  

 _“You rule my dreams, there in the dark splendor of the deep,_ ” You voice whispered, somehow louder than everything in the space, _“There the ocean rests on your back, like a sleeping child on his father’s shoulders.”_

Time seemed to slow as you spoke. You resisted the urge to rub your eyes, blinking when the area in front of you warped a bit. You swore you saw the Void in its terrible brilliance, the carcass of a whale floating by and staring at you. You let out heavy breaths, closing your eyes and accepting the swirling energy of the Void as you called upon your deity for his aid, begging and pleading for the power to protect the people behind you. There would be a price, there always was. You were ready for it, because you had done this before. The memories were louder now, screaming at the top of their lungs about all the reminders they held. You had done this before. And it will hurt.

_You were ready for it to hurt._

When you opened your eyes again, the Deity was toe to toe with you. You heard Griffon gasp. You knew others could just faintly see the Deity when summoned, but he wouldn’t be able to remember when he looked like later. A low bass rumble filled the air, making your ears ring and fingers shake as a god had now shown itself in this place, a place he didn’t belong. His black eyes took up your vision, unblinking and unmoving as he took your hand, pressing against the wound until it stung terribly. You didn’t wince, you didn’t dare move.  

You continued speaking, voice still unrelenting as you stared at the being before you.

 _“In these sleepless nights of despair,”_ You whispered, smelling the cold and dark taste of the Void on his breath as he hummed, listening to you speak with a quiet interest, amusement if you weren’t mistaken, _“You appear to me. Not as the mighty leviathan, but as a young man—”_

_This was your invocation. Your sacrifice. Say it._

_“— With eyes as black as the Void.”_

The Deity closed his eyes with a low hum, leaning his head down so his chin rested on your head. Akin to a fatherly embrace, he whispered to you as his power filled every part of you, limbs burning and trembling as you stared ahead at the demons frozen to the spot.  

 _You know the price,_ His voice echoed in your mind, but his mouth didn’t move as he pulled away. He brought a bead of your blood to his mouth, tasting it on a grey tongue. Was that the color? _For every drop paid is an hour gained. But for every hour gained is another hour suffered._

Six drops of blood. Six hours of his blessing. Then, balanced, six hours of agony. You knew what must be done.

You nodded, taking a step back as the Deity smiled widely, his image evaporating before your eyes as everything began to move again. The floating debris fell, landing all around as rain started to drench your trembling frame. You could hear Griffon panting in shock, still dragging V away even as he still watched. You fought a sigh—you wish he hadn’t seen that. It was more explaining you'd have to do later. But that was fine, you were ready for it. You’d have six hours to do so, after all. The wound on your palm fused immediately, the reminder still there of the price that was paid as you squeezed shut a fist, lifting your black eyes to the screaming, approaching demons again. You had to make this quick—that time you gained would have to be spent healing V. Nothing more.

You had the energy to expend now, as if the Deity’s puppet strings were woven around your bones, around the culmination of your being. You moved barely feeling it, all fatigue gone in the moments you now had. The Deity’s breath was in your lungs, like icy hands in your chest. It was pain, glorious pain, and you could handle it with grace.

You could do something incredible with this.

Several demons began to lunge at you, claws outstretched and sharp teeth ready to bite into your flesh. They wouldn’t get the chance.  

You rose a hand, teeth grit as you hissed out, “ _From being, into Death.”_

Tendrils shot out of the ground all around you, black in color this time. Thousands of them, impaling demons through several parts of their bodies as the tendrils traveled along the ground. The large group of demons was swept to the side, screaming in fear as the huge, writhing mass of tendrils descended upon them in a wave of pain and death. It curled into the sky, stabbing and jutting out until one demon remained, piercing so many spikes into its body it burst apart. A huge mass of tendrils remained, curling around the courtyard in a behemoth show of strength. This was the power of the Void, pure and simple. Not a single demon remained, all beginning to disintegrate into nothingness as a cold breeze blew over the courtyard, colder than it should be in June.

You heard Griffon let out a shocked gasp, watching the tendrils detach from you, turning slowly into black crystal. The entire structure began to harden, turning into the glittering mass similar to what you had given Nico earlier. The adrenaline was fading now, turning into a deep panic and anxiety as you panted out breaths, afraid to turn around. You had done something terribly amaze, frightening. And Griffon and Shadow saw it. You needed to focus; your fear came after helping V. He was first priority.

You turned, eyes going back to normal as you followed the line of blood, seeing Griffon peaking his beak out of the opening with Shadow’s snout. You slid in, meeting Griffon’s gaze briefly before looking at V. He was propped against a nearby wall in the empty garage, holding the wound himself and panting out harsh breaths. You froze, meeting his gaze with one of pure panic. He was awake, he was awake while you had attacked. _Did he see?_ You felt your heart pounding so hard it hurt, resisting the urge to dig your nails into your palms. His eyes were half closed, expression pained as his jade gaze held yours for a moment. You swallowed; the silence now held over the space making your panic even worse. Summoning your courage, you produced tendrils, lifting the poet up and hurrying to a nearby door.  

He grunted in agony as soon as you did, making you jump and squeak, “S...sorry...! I’m so sorry...!” You didn’t know what you were apologizing for, so many regrets mingling in your brain as you opened the door, hoping to god the place you picked was still in one peace.

Much to your shock and relief, V managed a grim half smile, voice very weak as he replied, “Don’t apologize. This...was my mistake.”

 _“You’re damn right it is!_ ” Griffon suddenly snarled, making you jump a bit as you turned to look at him. His feathers were puffed out, look of shock gone as he glared at the poet, “You know better than to do stupid shit like that, V! _This whole situation is absolutely fucked!”_

You felt guilt pour over you, carefully moving V inside and looking around. It appeared to be a simple, one-bedroom apartment. Everything was in one space—the floor was raised on the far wall where the bed rested with some small tables and a dresser. On the lowered floor was a couch facing a television on the wall. A little, quaint kitchen was tucked away in the corner with a tiny dining room table. And you assumed the closed door to the side was a bathroom. You sighed in relied—no roots had broken through here yet. You quickly walked over a plush rug on the floor, clearing the two steps leading up to the bed and setting V down there. He gasped in pain as soon as you gently sat him up, his skin somehow paler than usual.

“I’m so sorry...!” You whimpered worriedly, holding him up with the tendrils as you eased one side of his vest away. The wound looked absolutely nasty, making bile rise in your throat a bit. You swallowed again, trying to calm the rising panic, “I was here to help and I couldn’t even manage to stop this.”

V let out a shaken breath, closing his eyes as he managed, “Don’t do that. It isn’t your fault.”

“You did plenty out there,” Griffon added in a shocked tone, making you wince. He landed on the bed, staring at you with a mix of awe and confusion, “How have you not reached your limit yet after that fucking slaughter fest? I thought for sure you'd be on the floor by now.”

V let out a grunt, eyeing you with heavy concern as he rasped, “Are you alright, Y/N?”

You shushed him, ignoring the question and helping ease his black vest off his shoulders. You could only briefly admire his black tattoos wrapping all the way down to his waist—there were definitely more important things to focus on. You recalled for a moment that you were already standing there in just a bralette top and your shorts. You would feel awkward later, but now was definitely not the time. Once the poet was free of his leather coat, you pulled the bandages from your bag. He was panting from the pain already, probably suffering from heavy blood loss. The area around the wound was black and blue, bruised and inflamed. The rider hit him good. There was a lot of damage.  

You wrapped a few tendrils around that shoulder, closing your eyes as you activated your energy.

“Y/N,” V began to protest, grabbing one of your wrists as you murmured a new spell, “You cant...!”

 _“Through the Void, Flesh is woven,_ ” You breathed, ignoring his complaints. You gave him a little energy, enough to remove the bruising and prevent any infection. He slumped a little when you did, a low gasp escaping his full lips as you caught him before he could fall forward. You smiled softly, watching his eyes close again once the magic began to take effect, “I can only give you a little at a time...Too much of this energy at a time would be agonizing and could hurt you worse. This will take a few hours.”

He was panting, eyes still closed as he replied in a low rasp, “I’m not a fool...This won’t come without cost,” He lifted his jade eyes, lifting a weak arm to gently grasp your chin. You blinked at him, frozen in place for a second as he continued to stare into your eyes, still out of breath as he continued, “This is not what I want. You...Shouldn’t be breaking yourself to help me.”

You offered a soft smile to him, gently holding his wrist in your hand as you did something you absolutely hated.

You lied to him.

“I’m okay,” You said, keeping your tone calm and soothing as you began to wrap bandages around his body. Inside you were already counting the moments. Five hours and fifty-five minutes, thirty seconds. Twenty-nine seconds. You had that much time to get him back to how he was, “I called upon my deity to help, but I can only do it once. He bought me some time and extra energy."

V stared at you in concern still, seeming unconvinced. His eyes closed despite that, wincing as you wrapped the wound. You were glad this bed was clean, with a blanket and fitted sheets. You held the back of his head as you eased him back, Shadow jumping onto the bed with a worried look in their bright red eyes. They curled up beside V, head resting on big paws as they watched their master take rasping breaths. You pulled the blanket over him, hands still shaky as you smoothed the black hair out of his face. He was still hurt badly; you’d have to time this right.  

“Just rest and let me take care of things,” You murmured to him, watching his eyes tiredly open again, "I'll heal you a few times an hour, not too much. Just focus on resting.”

You stood to get up, letting go of his hand to search around the apartment a bit. But you felt him grip your wrist again, stopping your momentum before you could even take a step.

You looking back down at him, surprised at the expression he wore. His face was.. _.frightened._ The look he gave you reminded you of a child—so vulnerable, more vulnerable than you had ever seen him. You met his jade gaze, feeling his hand squeeze your wrist as much as he could must. If you weren’t mistaken, his fingers were trembling. And that broke you a bit, heart hammering and aching at the same time. That feeling came back to you, the feeling that V had not been given enough support growing up. Being sick, being hurt...They were terrible things to go through without a shoulder to lean on. Especially while young. He said he had lost a mother, and made no mention of a father. You were willing to bet he had been hurt before, only this time you were here to support him.

And he wasn’t used to that.

“Please don’t leave me,” He rasped, making you suck in a sharp breath. You were sure Griffon did as well, the bird quiet for once in his life. V took another shaking breath, voice weak and tired as he added, “Please, Y/N.”

Feeling like your heart was breaking into a million pieces, you sat back on the bed, leaning against the headboard next to him and slipping your hand into his. You squeezed gently, offering him a soft smile as you kept holding on.

“I’m not going anywhere,” You promised, leaning your head back and closing your eyes, “I was going to look around for some towels, but that can wait. We’re all drenched.”

“I've got it." Griffon said with a grunt, causing you both to look at him as he flapped his wings and went gliding to the bathroom door. You smiled—he would have to figure out how to turn a knob on his own.  

You turned your eyes back to V, watching in relief as he closed his eyes again, relaxing now that you were sitting with him. His hand was colder than usual, fingers still trembling a bit. You focused your energy, giving him a small dose of healing to try and ease his pain. Just a little bit, one small piece at a time. He released a light sigh at the sensation, hand squeezing yours and making your heart patter excitedly. You mentally scolded yourself, wanting to groan at your own state of being affection starved. Even just touching him in this small bit was making you happy, mingling with the absolute worry and fear him being injured caused. You wished you could hold his hand under better circumstances.  

“Forgive me,” He murmured, making you blink in surprise. He opened those jade eyes again, the vulnerability still there, “I fear I lean on you...far too much.”

You smiled at that, eyes gentle as you replied, “How fortunate for you, I love being leaned on,” You couldn’t help yourself—you stroked his hair back again, making a face when you realized it was still wet. You murmured a light spell to dry off as much of him as you could, just to make him more comfortable, “That’s why I am here.”

He let out another breath, slender chest rising and falling lightly, "You shouldn't have to bear my burdens. Not when this task was my burden alone to make right.”

You let out a gentle hum at that, closing your eyes and leaning your head back, "But I want to. And besides...you're my friend, and that makes your burdens mine," You smiled opening your eyes slightly and staring ahead as you recalled every moment aching and hoping, wishing you were close enough to people to be considered worth their time, “And being able to have a person I care enough about to bare their burdens...It feels nice.”

V went quiet, you could feel his gaze still on you.  

When he finally replied, his tone was thoughtful, lilting, “Yet you keep all your burdens to yourself,” You looked at him, startled. His gaze met yours, far too searching and knowing as he gave you that half smile you were starting to adore with his voice breathy and soft, “You drift in and out a lot, you admit that things have hurt you. And yet...your lips remain tightly shut.”

You looked away, unable to find the words to reply. Probably only proving his point. He was right, you knew that. But you didn’t want him to see weakness, the pain of being useless a huge reminder you wanted to forget. It never left you, always there and clawing at your insides.  

You only sent more energy into him, making him suck in a sharp breath and continue.

“You are by far the strangest woman I have met,” He said with a pained chuckle, closing his eyes again, “Yet that’s easily the most comforting thing in my existence right now.”

You noticed he said “existence” and not “Life.” Still, his words made you feel warm, from your toes to your ears. Your lies and half-truths were daggers in your chest, digging in every time you breathed. You closed your eyes too, wishing desperately that you could cry, that you could break down. You needed it, craved it, ached for it. It had been so long since you outright sobbed, broke down and shattered. It was now occurring to you that you and V were two broken individuals tap-dancing around trauma, trying to find peace any way you could. Wanting to reach out with arms chained by broken memories. And that wasn’t fair, not after everything you had faced. Why deny yourself the things that made you happy?

You leaned down, pressing a small kiss to V’s forehead. You heard him suck in a small breath, but his eyes didn’t open. His hand squeezed yours, steady now. No longer trembling.

“Get some rest,” You murmured, “Please? For me. I promise I’ll still be here.”

He let out a low, tired hum, resting his body fully on the sheets. You counted heartbeats, watching him with a gentle expression as you shared a small, quiet moment with him. He was by far the most fascinating person you had met. There was something mesmerizing about him, watching his face relax into sleep. Eyelashes resting on pale skin, hair brushed back from his forehead. His face took on a soft expression, peaceful now that he was away from pain. You let out a slow breath, putting your free hand to your mouth now that you had a moment to process what you had done. Christ in heaven. You couldn’t believe you had kissed his head.  

And worse, you couldn’t believe you wanted to do it again.

So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear Griffon approach. He landed softly on the bed, dropping a towel from his beak and whispering at you.

“You think I didn’t see that?” He caroled quietly, making you jump a little, “My eyes see all, toots. And I’ve seen enough to know you’ve got it bad.” 

You flushed a little, grabbing the towel with your free hand and tossing Griffon a dirty look as you hissed, “Wake him and die, bird. Also, mind your own birdie business.”

Griffon huffed, perching himself on the end of the bed’s frame, “It is my business, it's _totally_ my business,” He sounded downright delighted, evil even, “Two whole days huh? That must be a record."

You threw the towel at him once you finished drying V’s bare upper half, the bird dodging it easily with a chuckle.

“Hey, I’m not judging,” He quipped, picking the towel up with his talons, a glint in those golden eyes, "You need a wingman? I'll volunteer, just for you toots. Nothing would please me more.”

“One more word,” You warned quietly, gently releasing V's hand so you could stand without jostling him, “And I’ll hand you over to Nico.”

Luckily enough, once he entered sleep it was deep. His chest was rising and falling steadily, lips parted enough to make you want to...

Bad thoughts.

You shook your head, quietly doing a run through of the air as Griffon chuckled to himself. Luckily, Shadow was quiet support on the bed, keeping V warm and making sure he wasn’t disturbed. You appreciated that.

You kept up a cycle of sorts for a few hours. You would look through the apartment, picking up small things you would need as you went. The bathroom first—you tested the shower, disappointed to find no water came out. Whatever, you would live. There was a medkit in the bathroom, along with a few other small things you tucked into your bag. Part of you felt bad, but you doubted the person who lived here would miss it. After searching one place, you’d go back to heal V, humming the tune to the Drunken Whaler as you did. He woke up a couple of times, but always fell back asleep as soon as you were there.

_Three more hours._

By the time you hit the halfway point, it was darkness outside. You found several candles around the place, along with what looked to be a camping lantern under the bathroom sink. You kept the room illuminated dimply, not wanted to risk hurting yourself in the darkness of night. It must have been midnight by now, the rain still falling steadily. You checked the kitchen, finding bottles of water and various other cans of food. Just what you needed. Those were tucked away as well, but you left some water on the bedside table for the next time V woke up. Opening the fridge was a mistake--you gagged at rotting food. No electricity here either. Oh well. Meanwhile, Griffon watched your process in amusement, making quips here and there about you and your "crush". You ignored them for the most part.

_Two hours._

You weren’t feeling tired, but you knew that was the deal your Deity made with you keeping you energized. You took the time to strip off your boots and socks, changing in the bathroom into the shirt and panties Nico had given you. You sighed in relief, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your legs were a little bruised from fighting, illuminated by florescent lights. You looked at your face, having not seen it in a long time. You rarely looked at your reflection—it startled you sometimes. There were moments it didn’t feel like you, like a stranger was staring back. But those lips opened when yours did, those eyes blinked. Your hair was still damp, wavy now as you ran a hand through it and pulled it over one shoulder. _This was still you._

You dried your shorts, pulling them back on and deciding to let the other stuff air dry. You had more important things to focus on.

_One hour._

You healed V more and more, checking on his bandage and relieved to find the wound was well on its way to being fully sealed. Scar tissue was there now, pink and jagged on the edges. So close, just one more hour of healing. You wanted to make sure he was at least functional before then. Luckily, he had spent a good portion of the time resting, drinking water and doing what you asked. Nervousness and regret squeezed you—time was almost up and he was going to know you lied. You felt terrible, guilty. But you didn’t want him worried while healing. You tried not to dwell on it.

In the remaining hour you checked the landline phone, disappointed when it didn’t work. You were meant to meet Nico hours earlier—you hoped they hadn’t left yet, or that she wasn’t angry.  Some things just always managed to get in the way, it would seem. You let out a sigh, sitting down gently on the bed and transferring some more healing energy. You stretched, joints popping with the motion. Griffon chuckled again, drawing your attention to him.

“Y’know,” He shook his head, tone oddly soft, “You sure are somethin’.”

You frowned, “What do you mean?”

He jerked his beak in V’s direction, making you look at his sleeping form.

“I’ve been with Shakespeare for a whole month,” Griffon scoffed quietly, shaking out his feathers, "The poor bastard is shut up tighter than my asshole. A complete fucking enigma. Yet here you are, working tirelessly to heal up his pretty boy ass, showing a molecule of human decency and he falls to pieces. And stranger still, you fucking enjoy it.”  

He shook his head, letting out a short, quiet laugh.

“You humans sure are somethin’,” He peered at you, golden gaze steady and searching, “But you’re more than some garden variety human.”

That made your heart pick up, hands resting on your lap as you looked away.

When you replied, your tone was soft, filled with a regret building for more years than you could count.

“I was once,” You whispered, eyes staring at your feet, “I was once and it was so terrible I felt to pieces. And now I’m here, and I’m more. And all I want...is to be loved. And to help others.”

Griffon paused at that, shaking his head again. He let out a light laugh. You heard him flap lightly, landing on your shoulders and gently pressing his face to the side of yours. You blinked in surprise at the tender action, gently cupping his beak and nuzzling back. Something about the motion made you want to cry, eyes burning a little as you closed them again.

“You and Shakespeare really are somethin’,” Griffon muttered softly, tone still gruff yet also gentle, “Cut from that same damn cloth, haunted by nightmares. A damn shame, if you ask me.”

You smiled softly, gently scratching the side of his head, “It isn’t all bad. My suffering led me to you all.”

Griffon let out a snort, nipping your cheek lightly as he grunted, “Bold of you to assume meeting me is _anything_ but a curse, toots.”

That made you giggle a bit, mouth opening a bit to reply.

You didn’t get the chance.

_Time is up._

Agony slammed into you like a thousand razors cutting through your chest and stomach, sending you forward as you doubled over and landed on the floor. Griffon squawked in alarm, barely managing to catch you from falling forward again. All the energy, all the power was gone from you in an instant, body collapsing under the weight of agony and fatigue and... everything. You were wheezing, barely able to breath and room tilting back and forth. You couldn’t focus, you couldn’t feel your legs. And worse, you felt bile rising steadily in your throat, stomach churning like the sea in a storm. You were going to hurl, and you couldn’t stop it.

You tried to stand, barely able to hear Griffon yelling at you, asking you if you were alright. You couldn’t focus. The Void was whispering, screaming in your ear as you tried to rise, hand pressed to your mouth. You stumbled, Griffon catching you and somehow managing to help you to the bathroom in enough time to puke. You bypassed the toilet, collapsing over the tub and releasing the contents of your stomach, over and over. Bile first, then eventually a familiar and unwelcome taste entered your mouth. Disgusting, making you gag more even as the disgusting liquid left you, glowing a light, eerie blue as it splattered into the tub. Whale oil—you had exerted so far you were vomiting bile from the Void, body shaking and alight with pain.  

Griffon was panicking, landing next to you as you vomited a couple more times, wheezing and choking on your own stomach contents.

 _“God damn it!”_ He shrieked, nosing your face with his beak as you weakly lifted your head, “Fuck! What’s happening to you?! _What the fuck happened?!_ Fuck, fuck this isn’t good— _please tell me what to do!”_

You had never heard him this scared, but you couldn’t reply. You were fading out.  

You lifted one trembling hand as you slid down by the tub, seeing blackness spreading through your veins, under your skin. Your pallor was so pale it was almost grey, heart thudding in your ears and body so full of pain it drowned out every other thing. Griffon’s screeches faded into the distance as your eyes closed, breath coming in short gasps as you heard him yelling for V. But you couldn’t stop him.

_This is the price you pay. With a reminder of pain._

All you felt was nothingness.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the support as always <3 And yes, the Deity is essentially the Outsider lol what gave me away?

_Author’s notes: Sorry this one took so long, its been a long day kids_

 

_Chapter 9_

****

_(V POV)_

_You have a duty to see this through._

V’s mind was drifting in and out, awash with pain one moment then blanked out in sleep the next. He was aware of a few things when consciousness made its presence known again. One was the familiar, strange chill your energy brought, almost like cool water was traveling through his veins. Another was your warm hand, soft whispering words, the dabbing of a towel on his chest and brow. Small, comforting things. He...wasn’t used to such actions. The very sensation of your soft lips pressing gently to his forehead made his chest ache in such a way he hadn’t experienced before. He almost didn’t want to sleep, just to be able to feel those things again and again in clarity, writing them to memory so when the darkness inevitably came back he would have them.

To be honest, your actions were like a punch in the gut. Not because he didn’t enjoy them, not because they weren’t welcome. But because he didn’t deserve them. Throughout his journey, his task, the all too familiar weight of crushing guilt was on his back. Suffocating, stifling, drowning guilt. Seeing the dead bodies of innocent humans, knowing just how much destruction was wrought by such selfish actions. And that was his fault, his burden. His problem to fix. How could he, in all his sins and self-loathing ever think himself deserving of comfort, of care? He was a selfish creature too, after all. Just like Urizen, he wanted what wasn’t deserved. He asked too much of you, craved so much of you. Holding his hand meant everything. That kiss on the head meant...everything.

It meant everything to he who was nothing.

Still, he listened to what you asked, letting sleep claim him again as the pain of his chest began to slowly fade. Miraculously, you were managing to heal the damage done by the rider. The process was slow, but it gave him time to rest as needed. You were certainly determined. He lost count of how many times he was coaxed to drink water, or how many times you had given him small doses of healing energy. To be honest, this made him guilty too. You were so exhausted before, so tired and worn out. You deserved to rest, that he knew, but you weren’t. His error in judgement caused you to lose out. Though you claimed that your Deity made it so you felt no exhaustion, no pain, something...didn’t feel right. The more the night went on, the more worried he grew. But his exhaustion kept him falling back into sleep, unable to hold himself above water.

And when he did sleep, his dreams were broken and muddled. Small glimpses of memories, things that reminded him of why he was on this mission to begin with. He welcomed the pain of waking more than these dreams--they were not welcome, nor needed. He would not lose sight of what needed to be done, nor would he let his steps falter after healing from the attack. Forward, keep moving forward. His brain wouldn’t let it go, peppering his sleep with unpleasant things and the musings of...his past self. He mourned the long, peaceful rest of his first fight with you. How had things managed to fall apart so fast?

_“V…!”_

Griffon’s voice cut through the haze of dreams, frantic and filled with panic. V felt himself jerk, body trying to pull him out of the deep ocean of rest even as his own exhaustion tried to tug back. Something was wrong. Something was wrong. He needed to wake up. He struggled to pull himself out, feeling the slight twinges of pain in his shoulder even as he tried to fight back layer upon layer of dark, heady unconsciousness. Griffon’s weight was on his now, shaking him, voice growing louder and louder with each passing second.

“Wake up! _Wake up! For fuck’s sake please get up!”_ He screeched, voice rising as if through ocean waves, “Something is wrong and I don’t fucking know what to do! _Wake up you god damn idiot!”_

_Something is wrong._

V felt himself jerk awake, consciousness slamming into him like a truck. He gasped, chest heaving as his eyes flew open. How long had he been asleep? He sat up, taking in several things at once as Griffon lifted off his chest with a relieved gasp. It was still dark outside, the room was quiet, and you were nowhere in sight. The last thought made his heart pound, eyes locking with Griffon’s as the bird hovered in front of his view.

 _“Where is she...?_!” V rasped, holding out a hand for Griffon to help him out of the bed. The bird didn’t hesitate, latching onto him and tugging onto the poet’s arm with a force V wasn’t used to him using.

“ _She’s on the bathroom floor!_ ” Griffon shrieked, “ _I don’t know what happened! One second the girl was fine, then the next…!”_

V didn’t let him finish, fear filling him as he grabbed his cane, practically bolting to the opened bathroom door. Shadow sprinted ahead of him, claws skidding on the tile floor as they scrambled to your form. The sound of distress Shadow made only deepened V’s fear, the poet quickly shoving his way into the bathroom to see what was wrong.

The sight of you made his heart practically stop.

You were lying on the cold tile, skin so pale it was practically grey in color. Hair draped over your face, blue glowing liquid dripping from the edge of the tub and onto the floor a bit. V let out a sharp gasp, collapsing to the floor next to your prone form and carefully lifting your head. Much to his horror, the veins under your skin looked black, writhing as your hands occasionally twitched. What the hell was happening to you? V felt panic curling in his gut, breathes coming short and fast as he pulled you into his lap. Even more shocking--your eyes were half open, only now they were black. Your face was prone, unmoving, you gave no indication that you had heard or even sensed his presence. Almost like you were…

_She can’t be dead._

Gasping, V pressed his ear to your chest, hearing your faint, racing heartbeat and shortened breathing. Your muscles were clenching and relaxing over and over, like you were in agony. And still you said nothing, did nothing. You didn’t even look conscious. The strange, glowing blue liquid was dripping from the corners of your mouth, he couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was. Or what to do. What in the world was he supposed to do? He couldn’t remember a time where he felt like this, the panic, the fear...and the anger. Anger that he had caused this, anger that you hadn’t been truthful with him about the risks. Anger that you had put yourself through all of this just to heal him, to keep him safe.

No one had wanted to keep him safe before.

“Y/N…!” He whispered, smoothing your hair out of your face and cupping your cheek, “Can you hear me, Y/N? Please tell me what to do, _how can I fix this…?!”_

_Not even strong enough to save one girl. Just like--_

You didn’t answer, head lolling to the side a bit as you continued breathing in short, pained gasps. Shadow let out a low, distressed sound, curling around your other side and licking the blue liquid away from your chin. V felt his hands begin to shake, wiping tears from your left eye with the slide of his thumb. He was so weak, too weak to handle this alone. He couldn’t risk dealing with this without someone to help, he didn’t want to do anything that would hurt you more. Panicking, he looked up, locking eyes with Griffon. Every emotion he felt was echoed in the birds gold gaze.

“Go,” He commanded the bird in a harsh tone, pointing his cane out the door, “I need you to go find Nico and Nero--If we’re lucky, they are still waiting where we were supposed to meet…!”

“And if they’re _not?_!” Griffon’s tone was afraid, more than V had ever heard before.

 _“Then you keep searching…_!” V said through gritted teeth, the order in his voice coming across loud and clear.

Griffon let out a nervous trilling sound, launching from the bathroom sink and quickly out the way your group came. V turned his focus back to you, eyes traveling over the bathroom quickly. It looked like...you had come in here to throw up? And whatever came out of you was blue, very light in color. Thick and glowing. V let out a slow, shaking breath as he stood, lifting you up despite the pain still in his shoulder. The wound felt pretty much healed, just a bit sore. But that didn’t matter right now. You were surprisingly light, easy to lift as he carried you out of the bathroom, back into the room he had been in.

He set you on the bed, eyes scanning over your form with worry in his gaze. You had looked so strong when he saw you last, unwavering, resolute. You were still trembling slightly, body like a rag-doll and eyes black and glassy. V slid down to his knees beside the bed, pressing your hand to his face and holding it there as he counted your pulse--it was racing. Your skin felt chilled, you had been submerged in ice. But no matter how much V tried to warm your hand, that chill stayed.

How could your Deity let this happen? V closed his eyes, black hair hanging in front of his face as he thought over all that you had said. You were kept from exerting, given extra power and stamina. Enough to heal him, to stay awake most of the night to take care of him. You had fixed his wounds, gently, carefully, lovingly. And now...you were broken.

And it was his fault.

_(Nico’s POV)_

The mechanic didn’t like being worried.

She was still awake, sitting on her leather couch tinkering with one of Nero’s arms. A frown was on her face, nose scrunched up a bit as she tried to distract herself from wandering, racing thoughts. Where the hell were you and that damned goth? Meet in an hour, she had said. Anger had hit her first when you were late, and now many hours later it was just...fear. She didn’t like being afraid, nor did she like admitting to it. Nero was more open to his emotions, looking for your little group for an hour up ahead but not finding any traces that you had moved on. So then where did you go? V was never one to just ignore Nero and do what he wanted. Once a plan was made, he stuck to it like glue. Not a hint of wild in the lanky man.

Now it was four am. Nico still couldn’t sleep, having dug out a path with Lady for a few hours while they waited for you. It was distracting, but not enough so that she would let it slide. Mind you, the plan was to stay and sleep in the van to begin with, she purposely chose this place so you and V could stay too. And worse--they had to waste more time because Nero got hurt without the use of his arm. He was sitting in the passenger’s set of the van nursing a wound to his thigh, chugging what was probably his third energy drink and staring out at the darkness of night. How the hell were they supposed to tell you to wait? Nico let out a sigh. No one wanted to go to sleep, not even Lady. The woman was sitting at Nico’s small dining table, reading a magazine.

She didn’t know you, but she seemed to get everyone was stressed about you and V being missing. Nico sighed, rubbing her temple with a free hand when Nero suckled down the last of his drink, letting out a loud yawn. Heavily exaggerated.

“You’re gonna have a heart attack if you keep drinking those, idiot,” Nico muttered at the white-haired boy, hearing him belch loudly and crush his can with his new metal arm. Made by her, of course, “If Kyrie finds out she’s gonna kill ya.”

“That’s why you don’t snitch,” Nero replied, tossing the can into a garbage bin nearby, “If you’d go to sleep I’d stop drinking them.”

“You don’t need to stay up with me!” Nico snapped, whipping the metal arm around to point it at him, “Shut up and focus all your dumbass energy on healing your leg!”

Nero huffed, “Not my fault your shitty arms keep breaking.”

“Stop manhandling them and they won’t break, moron!”

“Am I not supposed to manhandle demons?” Nero turned, raising a brow and wincing as he jostled his leg, “Let me just give the demons a nice pat on the head. I’m sure that’ll stop them from ripping me apart.”

Nico rolled her eyes, meeting Lady’s gaze just as the woman yawned. She was a pretty thing, with short black hair and a nice body. She was in some of Nico’s working clothes, looking pretty nice considering she had popped out of the body of a demon earlier that day. Although, she seemed fairly tired too, downright exhausted. Nico frowned, wondering why she didn’t just go asleep. Nothing was keeping her up, not to mention all the digging they had done to clear a path for the van. Nico’s own back was aching from it, the mechanic sitting up and grunting when her spine settled in place.

She should have kept looking for you with Nero, the sensation of something being wrong would not leave.

The only sign that something may have happened was from you, she was sure of it. They drove past what looked to be a curling, spiky column of black crystal earlier. It looked just like the shit you had given her earlier in the day. Nero said he looked around in the area a bit, but there was no blood or footprints anywhere. Which made sense, considering it was still raining outside. They could have taken the time to check every house in the area, but that was ridiculous. If you were still in the area, what was stopping you from meeting them?

Unless someone had got hurt.

Nico groaned in exasperation, slamming the arm she was working on down on a table next to her. The sound made both Lady and Nero jump, turning to look at the dark haired woman.

“Maybe we should go out and look again?” Nico mumbled to herself, standing up and running a hand through her hair. Nico knew she wasn’t the friendliest person, but she liked you. You always had this happy little smile, and you were nice to everyone. Like the little sister everyone in the group really wanted. Nico never really had much family growing up, just her mother once the dead-beat left them in the dirt to struggle. Her mother did her best, told her stories of her ancestors and trained her to make a living. Other than that, she had Nero and Kyrie. Her only loved ones now that her mom was gone.

Nero let out a light sigh, leveling Nico with a frown and exasperated look, “At this time of night? And where would we start? Too risky.”

“Yeah?! And?!” Nico snapped, planting her hands on her hips, “We can’t just sit and do nothin’!”

She heard Lady sigh, the woman rising to her feet as well to put a hand on Nico’s arm.

“There’s always tomorrow,” The woman murmured, eyes filled with concern, “I’m sure we will find them.”

Nico shrugged her off, letting out a heavy sigh and continuing her pacing. She didn’t want to wait till tomorrow, didn’t want to take any risks. Lady turned and exchanged a look with Nero, who echoed her concern with a glance of his own. As much as he tried to play it off, Nico knew him well. He was worried, very worried. He kept looking out the windows, tapping his fingers, grinding his teeth. His tells were fairly easy to spot. He was probably concerned about what to do without V, but Nico knew you were on his mind as well. He had sent you with the poet after all.

Nico let out a heavy sigh, ready to head out the door herself when the sound of something slamming hard onto the roof of her van startled the whole group. She turned to look at Nero, the boy grabbing onto his sword quickly and ready to rise to his feet when a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

“You fuckers had better be _awake…!_ ” Griffon’s grating voice was muffled through the van, his shriek still managing to be piercing despite that, “ _Get up!_ _Get the fuck up we need your help!”_

Nico shot a glance at Nero, whipping open her van door to look up at the bird perched on her roof. He was panting, feathers puffed up in every which way and gold eyes piercing in the dark. He was also drenched, dripping water onto her van roof in a steady patter. Both relief and fear filled the mechanic now as she addressed the poet’s familiar, tone loud and angry.

“Where the fuck have y’all been?!” She screeched, making the bird rear back with a startled squawk, “Start squawkin’ little chickee!”

Griffon let out a low, nervous trill, watching as Nero and lady exited the van as well to look at him.

“V got hurt bad!” He rasped, scratching his talons on the van’s roof, “Y/N healed him up as best she could but she collapsed, there’s something wrong with her and I fucking need you guys to come help! We would have came earlier but V couldn’t be moved you psychotic woman!”

Nero and Nico exchanged a glance, Nico darting back into the van in an instant to start the engine. Lady followed suit with Nero, everyone piling back in quickly now that their worries were confirmed. Nico would let the bird’s insult slide for now, there were more important things to take care of. The engine of the van came roaring to life, Griffon letting out a startled squawk, launching from the roof and hovering in front of the windshield with glowing blue wings. Nico glared out the window at him, but he seemed genuinely worried about you and the poet, so she couldn’t really be all mad. Now the worry was really setting in, along with the relief that they at least knew what happened now.

Nico pointed out the window at Griffon, voice loud as she commanded, “Lead the way, chicken!”

He nodded his feathery head, taking off down the road toward where Nico had left you guys early. She pushed on the pedal, tires swerving around as she quickly followed with her van. Rain began pattering on the windshield as soon as they left the cover of the subway station, the dark of night barely illuminated by barrel fires and the occasional still working streetlight. Griffon’s bright, glowing feathers were easily visible in the sky ahead, Nico driving carefully for once in her life. The drive was short, much to Nico’s surprise and confirmed suspicions. Griffon led them back to the courtyard where the crystal pillars were, right where she had seen you and the poet traveling to earlier.

Nico shot a look at Nero, who shrugged and looked away with a click of his tongue. He claimed they he went looking in this area, but they must have hid in apartment like she previously assumed. That would teach people to ignore the shit she was saying and make them actually listen. She slammed on the brakes in front of what looked to be an abandoned apartment complex with a garage in the front. It was partially open, just enough that someone could sneak through if they so choose. Nico let out a pained noise at Nero, wishing to god she could smack him. That was the one obvious place to check.

He sighed, rising to his feet with a grunt of pain, “Yeah, this one is on me.” He said simply, hopping out of the van to pull up the garage door with his metal hand. Nico impatiently drove in, slamming on the breaks and hopping out of the mobile home with Lady hot on her trail. She didn’t wait for Nero to close the garage door behind them.

Griffon led the charge in, the door already half open when he nosed his way through. Nico pushed in after, instantly finding the poet and you in the room.

V was sitting in a chair next to a bed, leaning heavily on his cane with probably the most worried expression the mechanic had seen on him. He was shirtless, with several bandages wrapped around his torso. He looked fucking exhausted--an absolute trainwreck. Nico couldn’t recall a time she’d seen him that bad, not that she saw him often. He always seemed so calm and collected. But now...he was afraid, she could tell that much. His posture straightened a bit when she and Lady entered, relief in his gaze and a hint of pain.

The sight of you sent Nico’s heart pounding in shock.

She rushed to the bed with Lady close behind. You were curled up on the sheets, head half pressed to the pillow and frame twitching occasionally. Lady held her hand to her mouth while Nico leaned around V, pressing her fingers to your face, then to test your pulse. You were alive alright. But...you looked like hell. She had never seen anything like it before--just what the hell had happened to you? Panic curled in her gut, an emotion she tried to push back. Someone had to remain level headed, someone had to stay put together.

So instead of yelling, she addressed V calmly, voice low for once.

“Tell me what happened.” She said simply, eyes meeting his with a look of quiet urgency.

He let out a shaken breath, closing his eyes and leaning on that silver cane again. Griffon flew over to land by you on the bed, right next to Shadow’s anxious form.

“We fought a demon,” His voice was low, breathy and tired, “Two to be exact. They managed to land a hit on me, it was my error. She...did something, while I was fading in and out.”

Nero came in while he spoke, a look of shock and horror on his face as he saw your prone figure. He too rushed to the bed, moving around Lady to lean on the bed. Worry etched its lines in his face as he gripped one of your arms, feeling your pulse as well with a light frown. Griffon let out a low, nervous sound, eyes locked on you as he bowed his head a bit.

It was he who spoke, tone raspy and regretful, “If I had known this was the cause I would have stopped the dumb girl…!”

“What the hell did she do?” Nero asked, tone probably harsher than he intended.

“I don’t fucking know…!” Griffon sounded more panicked than mad, gold eyes closing as he recalled the events, “Poet was hurt, she told me to drag him in here. Then she... _cut_ herself. She cut her hand, dripped blood and...and something was fucking here.  Everything slowed and I fucking saw someone with her. Then all of a sudden, shit was normal. Only then she wasn’t tired, had all this flashy energy to plow away a horde of demons.”

_Someone?_

“Who was this someone?” Nico asked, frowning at the glowing blue demon bird, “What did they look like?”

“I…” Griffon trailed off, eyes opening again as he met her gaze, “I wish I fucking knew.”

“What?” Nero protested, a scowl on his lips now, “I thought you fucking saw them…!”

“You think I don’t know that?!” Griffon snapped, the sound immediately hushed by V. He paused, collecting himself a moment before taking a deep breath, “I saw them, I swear I did. But...when I try to remember its face...its _static._ I looked right at the bastard and I...I can’t remember it at all.”

Everyone went quiet, an uncomfortable silence falling over the room. Lady sat down on the bed next to Nero, gently brushing some hair from your face and examining you with something akin to a motherly gaze. She gently took one of your hands, feeling the cold of it, feeling the softness of your skin. Nico knew what she was seeing--you were a gentle looking girl. Your outside gently mimicked the inside. Only right now, you looked like...you were sick. Suffering. What the hell had you done, and why?

V suddenly spoke, drawing everyone’s attention again and seeming to answer Nico’s thoughts.

“She used an invocation,” His voice was that low purr, but with a bitter edge. He gripped the top of his cane, eyes dark as he added, “She made a sacrifice to her Deity for some borrowed power. That is who you saw, Griffon.”

A Deity...like a god? An honest to goodness God had appeared before you?

“Holy shit,” Nero whispered, rubbing his jaw a bit, “She can do that? And that...caused this?”

V nodded, running a hand through his black hair as he let out a low murmur, “I know a little of Gods and beings,” He tilted his cane to point at one of your hands. Nico immediately lifted it, eyes widening at the sight of scar on your palm. Only now...there was a black gash, the veins of it spreading over your arm and all over your body. The skin there felt like ice, so chilled it was like touching snow. V let out a light sigh, continuing, “She healed me on borrowed time. I should have known better. Griffon, how long was she awake for?”

The bird let out a low, nervous chirping sound.

“I...I don’t know…” He mumbled, head still hanging, almost in shame, “A few hours? The sun was already down when she did the palm-cutting shit.”

“It’s four am now,” Nero said, tone low and worried, “Nico, when did you leave them?”

She rubbed her cheeks, letting out a low groan as she tried to remember.

“I don’t know. Nine? Eight or nine,” She looked down at your trembling form, clenching her fists tightly as she added, “I knew I should have made you guys come with us. This never would have happened.”

Lady let out a low hum, placing her hand on Nico’s shoulder and squeezing.

“This isn’t the time to play the blame game,” She whispered, eyes soft as they passed over the group, “What do you propose we do?”

V leaned his head on his cane, gripping the base of the silver rod so tightly Nico was sure it had to hurt. She was surprised--she didn’t take the poet for the type to care about anybody easily. Nor had he known you long, always so focused on the job to be done. He never made pleasantries, never went out of his way to converse. V always gave the vibe that he was here to do the mission, not to make friends. Nico had always been alright with that, considering she had her own work to do. But he...looked downright guilty. Upset, angry, unsettled. His Jade eyes slid to you and softened a bit, that pain in his expression seeming to tighten a bit. Nico was sure she didn’t mistake that.

“We wait,” He murmured, closing his eyes and tilting his head away, “We will wait a day, take the time to see if it passes. I am still healing my own wounds, and Nero seems to be injured as well.”

Nero let out a low sound of agreement, but his eyes were troubled.

“Are you seriously alright with this?” He asked, eyes sharp and searching as he eyed the injured goth, “Are you alright with losing that much time?”

V let out a low sigh, lifting his head again to meet Nero’s gaze with his jade orbs.

“This was my error,” He replied, tone firm and resolute, “Urizen couldn’t have collected enough blood, not yet. If Dante could survive a month, he can survive an extra day.”

Nico was impressed--She never thought she’d see V willingly set back their progress. If anything it confirmed her earlier suspicions. He had to be pretty damn fond of you to do so, to do something so unbelievable out of character. It was he who always spoke of the urgency and necessity this mission faced, the dangers of Urizen and his plans. That driven look in his eyes was now replaced by exhaustion and worry...and that guilt. Speaking of the game blame, Nico was sure pretty boy blamed himself for this whole fiasco. It was a vicious cycle--she blamed herself for not pushing the issue earlier, he blamed himself for getting hurt. Hell, Nero even looked guilty.

Lady simply looked sad, still holding one of your hands firmly between her own.

“I wish Dante was here,” She whispered, “He would know what to do. I can’t even begin to start.”

Nico let out a sharp breath, trying to hype herself up and take charge. If she was good at anything, it was at getting shit done. Everyone else was still in that state of shock, but she knew for your sake she needed to bounce back. So she pulled out a hair tie, pulling her messy brunette hair back and looking around the space. A bathroom, kitchen, couch. There was a backpack left on the floor near the bed, filled with what appeared to be all the things she had given you. Nico had always been cunning, resourceful. She took care of her mama for plenty of years when she was a teenager, and she would be damned if anything else bad would happen to you while they waited. There were three injured people in the room, four if she counted Lady's traumatic experience of being trapped in a demon for a month. She could definitely figure this out.

“Nero, find some washcloths and wet them with warm water,” She commanded, making his head snap up to stare at her, “Chop chop--I ain’t gonna repeat myself.”

Nero nodded, letting out a light huff and wobbling his way to the bathroom. She turned to look at Lady next, meeting the woman’s gaze and happy to see determination echoed there.

“Stay with her,” She said, patting your cheek once as she stood, “Make sure she’s still breathin’ and lay down with her if you have to. And you,” She turned to point at V, ready to give him a command when he met her gaze with a cold one of his own.

“I’m staying with her,” His tone was absolute, right on the edge of grating, “I will not be swayed.”

Nico paused, ready to argue with him but knowing with certainty it wouldn’t work. So instead, she shrugged, skewering him in place with a very annoyed glare and pointing a single finger at him.

“Do whatcha want,” She replied, tone promising violence, “But I was gonna tell ya to lie your skinny ass on the couch and sleep. You’re useless to us injured.”

He closed his eyes again, rolling that injured shoulder as he slowly peeled off the bandages. Nico blinked, shock filling her when all that met her eyes was a pink, jagged looking scar. Still very fresh, easy to tear open, but healed. She let out a low whistle, examining it up close with curious eyes. Despite the consequences, your abilities were...something. Something incredible, amazing even. And Nico had her suspicions. Everything you had said seemed to purposely downplay yourself, make you seem just as useful as you wanted to be. But this...this was more than some latent ability. From the size of the wound and the remaining bruising, it could have easily killed the poet. Blood told a story on the bed sheets and bandages, one that confirmed V had been hurt pretty badly. In less than a day you had fixed it. And that...was something.

Something Nico would have to talk to you about.

Regardless, she backed off from the poet and left him to mope. Nero came out from the bathroom with a concerned expression and met her gaze, jerking his chin in a gesture to follow. Nico hopped down the stairs, quickly making her away to the half opened door.

Nero turned to let her through, pointing with that metal hand at the tub. Nico blinked, seeing the strange blue liquid all over the porcelain and dripping onto the ground. It was the strangest shit she had ever seen, like someone had yacked up a blue glow stick in gallons all over the tub.

“What the hell is this shit?” Nero commented, kneeling down with the mechanic and rubbing some of it between his human fingertips, “Never seen anything like it.”

Nico shook her head, pulling out a little vial from her pocket and gathering some of the stuff to seal it away. You would have to explain that later, that was for sure.

“It looks like she puked it up,” She observed, making a face at the traces of stomach bile in the tub as well. She tested the faucet, sighing when no water came out. That was fine, no one would be using this bathroom anyway, “This is all so fucking weird. I don’t understand this god and deity shit at all.”

“Me neither,” Nero sighed, scratching the back of his head with a perplexed expression, “But we can wait, regroup, and rest. What’s one day, right?”

Nico nodded, standing up and wiping her hands on a nearby towel. Time would tell and they had plenty of it to get some stuff done and lick wounds. Nero could heal his leg, V his pride, and Lady could recuperate a bit. As for the mechanic, she would take a short nap, then catch up on arm repairs and examine the bile a bit to see if it had any uses. Time was money after all, but she knew damn well she was just trying to cope with the worry over your well-being. Someone had to look out for you considering it seemed like you didn’t really have anyone else. And she certainly didn’t mind.

After all, fixing things was what she was good at.

_(Your POV)_

The pain had lasted so long that you weren’t sure which way was up anymore.

Time wasn’t really a concept when you were being punished. Pain was, the empty nothingness of the Void most certainly was. You couldn’t feel anything around you, but you could feel that god damn pain. Like flames, razors, claws and nails. You were chilled to the bone, and you could see nothing. That was the aspect that scared you the most, every time--the lack of senses. The panic curled in your gut, making you want to cry and scream at the sensation of zero spacial awareness. It was too much like death, too much like the time in the abyss. This was the true form of punishment, the reminder of what you were before the Deity found you. You found yourself clinging to the pain, using it as a life preserver in the ocean of panic and fear you were floating in.

How many hours had it been? Had a day passed? Was it almost over? You wished you knew. Counting seconds was meaningless when the pain was this bad, when you were swallowed by the Void on all sides. You simply focused on breathing, you hoped you still were. You tried to think about V, wondering if he was okay...if he was upset. Other worries made themselves known, like the idea of V moving on and leaving you behind. You wanted to think he at least cared enough to do that, but this was damaging to his task. You didn’t want to be a burden, in your mind he owed you nothing anyway. Your stupidity put you here, and you would deal with the consequences.

Or...so you told yourself.

The idea of waking up and the poet not being there made you ache even more in the darkness, in the fear. Too many times had you helped people, only to have them leave you behind. You tried so hard, you worked so hard. You just wanted to matter to someone, anyone. The ghosts of hurtful memories mingled with the physical pain. If you could clench your teeth, you would. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt like you belonged anywhere, but you knew there were times you did and the people...didn’t feel the same. You felt so comfortable with V, Griffon, and Shadow. You wanted to belong with them, you felt like you did. What if they didn’t feel that way?

Suddenly, your eyes were open.

You let out  a low gasp, staring at the ceiling of the apartment above the bed. The pain was suddenly...gone. It was all gone, you were awake.

You registered a few things, lying there with heaving breaths. One, it was dark again. Two, Shadow was definitely curled against your body, a heavily relieving thing.  If Shadow was here, V had to be here too. You felt your breaths calming, but the sense of shaken anxiety that came from the punishing ordeal wouldn’t leave. You still felt chilled, disconnected, slightly broken. Dissociating, more than anything else. You lifted your hand slowly to look at at it, seeing no more black veins or pale skin--the hand didn’t feel like yours. You swallowed, flexing your fingers a few times to try and shake the sensation. There was no relief.

Before you could look around more, you heard an unfamiliar, feminine gasp from another side of the room. Then a whispered, “ _Nico…_!”

The following gasp was familiar--Nico, the mechanic. You heard a rush of feet coming toward you, then a familiar face filled your vision. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been so happy to see her, which was strange considering you were always happy to see her. She looked even more frazzled than usual, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and what looked to be oil smudged on her face. You blinked tiredly at her, feeling your eyes burning with relieved tears as she put a hand to your cheek, giving it a light pat as she looked you over. Whatever she saw made her sigh softly, a smile curling her lips into a half smile.

“Welcome back,” She said in a quiet twang, helping you gently sit up, “How do you feel, honey?”

You blinked again, looking around the room.

When had everyone gotten here? Nico was here, obviously, but so was Nero. The white-haired demon hunter was slumped at the table sleeping, surrounded by crushed cans of red bull. He was snoring lightly, jaw slack as he rested his head on his arms. You had never seen him look so peaceful before, but also pretty worn out. He had some bumps and bruises himself--and what looked to be a wrapped up thigh. He must’ve gotten hurt at some point. Your gaze traveled the length of the room, seeing an unfamiliar woman peeking out from behind Nico. She was pretty, with short dark hair and nice lips--she looked pretty worn out too. Finally, your gaze found the one you were looking for--the poet was slumped over in the chair next to you, weight resting on his cane. His eyes were closed, face less than peaceful as he rested. It looked like he fell asleep sitting up. His ebony hair was a mess, like he had ran his hands through it a few times.

You let out a slow, relieved breath, looking back at Nico. Griffon was perched on the end of the bed behind her, watching you nervously with his golden eyes.

“Y/N?” Nico asked in a concerned when you still hadn’t answered, “Are you alright?”

You reached up to rub your eyes, still feeling disconnected as you murmured, “I...don’t know. How long was I...out?” If they were here, that means they all saw the state you had been in, which wasn’t a good thing in your book. You knew it was frightening, outside of the norm for most things. Dealing with things from the Void was unsettling at best, downright terrifying at most. You regretted putting anyone through trouble of any kind, but Nico seemed worried more than anything else.

“It’s eight at night,” She replied, sitting down on the bed and looking at your face, “Your symptoms cleared up after six hours or so, then you slept off most of the day.”

You let out a slow breath, resting your face in your hands at the revelation. A whole day. A whole day had been wasted by your actions. The thought made your chest clench in pain, panic threatening to bubble over.

“Don’t worry though,” Nico huffed, giving you a pat on the head, “We were gonna wait anyway. Nero took a slash to the leg, and Lady popped out a demon yesterday.”

Lady, as the woman was called, gave you a wave with a little curl of her fingers.

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled, running your hands through your hair, “I...guess I have explaining to do.”

“Mhm,” Nico confirmed, standing up with a long stretch and groan, “But first, focus on you. Whatcha need? Anythin’?”

You paused, looking at your hands as you let them rest in your lap. You didn’t feel hungry or thirsty, and the pain was mostly gone. Just a dull ache remained, and that disconnected feeling. You found yourself unable to keep up the happy energy you had before, feeling like you had clawed your way out of the Void all over again. Just like with your nightmares from the previous night, you felt shaken and on edge. Hands numb, on the verge of panic. As if sensing this, Shadow plopped their head on you, staring up with worried red eyes. Only this time the feeling of their fur wasn’t enough to shake the sensation hours of what equated to glorified torture caused.

Griffon spoke up before you did, tone low and uncharacteristic of him.

“She needs a shower,” He commented, ruffling out his feathers, “Girlie has been mentioning it since yesterday.”

You blinked, about to open your mouth to tell him that the shower in the apartment didn’t work. But Nico beat you to it.

“I’ve got a shower in the van,” She said with a little grunt, seeming to like that she now had a jumping off point, “Come on, sugar. I’ll get it set up for you.”

Your heart sped up at her words, body already pulling itself up the instant she said she had a shower. You hadn’t noticed it in the mobile home before, but it made sense. How come you never thought of asking? Numbly, you took Nico’s hand, letting her pull you out to the garage as Lady took up the rear. You spared a look at V’s sleeping form as you walked past--you wished someone would put him on the bed or couch, slouching like that was terrible for his back. He looked like hell, and you blamed yourself for that. Griffon seemed determined to follow after you, and so did Shadow. But Nico gave them a firm look of “no” as she pulled you through the door, closing it in their faces with Griffon letting out an indignant squawk. Luckily not loud enough to wake anyone, but Nico was making it very clear this was a girls only kind of thing.

Not that Shadow had a gender, but she seemed to just want it to be you, her, and Lady.

She turned on the lights in the van and helped you in. Your legs felt shaky, but you were walking fine enough. You rubbed your eyes again, inhaling the familiar smell of her cigarettes and metal--despite you not liking the scent of cigarettes, the familiarity of them made you feel a bit better. Nico was tasking herself with pulling a towel out of a chest in the back, grabbing your hand and pulling you to what you now realized was a small shower stall. Big enough for one person to get clean.

“Don’t worry about wastin’ water,” Nico told you, giving you a little shove on your lower back, “I’ve got a place I can refill whenever I wanna. I’d say you’ve got thirty minutes of hot water so take your time.”

“Thank you.” You murmured, meeting her gaze, then Lady’s. You didn’t know much about her, but the woman looked very nice.

She gave you a smile, tugging on Nico’s arm before the girl sat down on the couch.

“We’ll give you some privacy.” She said firmly, ignoring Nico’s light huff of annoyance as she dragged the girl out. Both disappeared from sight with a firm thud of the van door. You smiled softly, appreciating Lady’s understanding of your discomfort, but half wishing you weren’t alone. Loneliness was your close companion, especially after spending all that time alone in the pain from earlier. Your fist clenched to your chest, slowly pulling off your shirt, then focusing on the bralette you had been wearing. It felt weird, being bare again. Like when in the Void. Everything else came next, finally nude as your set your clothes down and stepped into the shower.

The knobs were simple enough. Cold and hot. You stepped back a bit to test the temperature, a thrill of delight traveling through you at the feeling of hot water. You wanted it hot, almost to the point it hurt. You wanted to shake the chill from your body entirety, leaving no trace of the Void’s cold fingers. After finding the level of heat you wanted, you finally stepped under the steady spray, eyes closed and lips parted slightly. A shudder traveled through you, body feeling blessedly relieved as the water washed away the remainder of pain and discomfort. You leaned your head on the shower wall, breathing slowly in and out, hands clenched even as your muscles relaxed. You wanted the disconnect to leave, which it was, but not it was leaving you to face the hard reality.

You opened your eyes, the water luckily taking away any tears that tracked down your cheeks. You reached for a bottle of shampoo, starting to lather your long hair and count breaths as you did so. After a moment you slid down, sitting at the bottom of the shower with your knees to your chest. You needed to get it together, you couldn’t be falling apart like this when you left the stall. But the tears kept coming, eyes closed shut to hold them back. Still, you wouldn’t let yourself sob. Keep up the cycle, cleanse yourself. You did everything you needed while in there, trying not to look at the scar on your palm as you reached for conditioner. Time was passing much quicker than you had liked. You wanted to spend an eternity in there, hiding from bad things. Warm water was so comforting, healing.

But it couldn’t shake the knowledge that V would be upset with you upon waking.

When you finally turned the shower off, you closed your eyes, leaning your head on one of the walls again as droplets made their way down your form. You didn’t want to leave the stall. But you were going to get cold if you kept waiting in there. In a way, showering did make you feel better, but being brought back into reality hurt just as much. You felt squeaky clean, muscled relaxed but mind still teetering on the edge. You wiped your eyes, wringing out your hair a bit as you let a few more seconds pass.

Lady’s soft voice drew you out of your musing, followed by a small knock on the shower door.

“You okay in there?” She murmured.

You let out a slow breath.

“Y...yeah…” You mumbled in reply. You half opened the stall, meeting her gaze and gently taking the towel she offered. It was warm and dry, very much welcome now that the water on your body was cooling. You started to dry off, eyes half open as you stepped out of the stall a bit. Nico was there as well, holding fresh clothes. You shrugged off the fact that you were nude, rationalizing that you were all girls and it didn’t matter. You had been naked in front of others before.

Nico and Lady were both dressed in t-shirts and shorts, and that’s what they seemed to be giving you. You gratefully accepted, pulling on fresh clothes with a relieved sigh. It felt weird to dress casually for once.

Lady took the towel from your hands, hastily rubbing it over your hair once you were finished getting dressed. You blinked, letting out a light “oof” as you leaned forward to accommodate.

“You’ll get a cold like that,” She said, smiling when you looked up at her, “Come on, let’s go out an get you something to eat, yeah?”

Nico let out a light snort, pulling a bottle out of her kitchen cabinets.

“And drink!” She said, holding up a bottle of alcohol that looked fruity, pink, and strong, “This seems like a boozy kinda’ day.”

Lady frowned, you blinking in surprise.

“Is drinking really a good idea?” Lady asked, but she eyed the bottle with a hint of eagerness.

Nico shrugged, grabbing you by the arm and tugging you back toward the apartment.

“Only one way to find out.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long, I've been working hard and it's been a rough day

_Chapter 10_

****

Upon re-entering the apartment, you were relieved to see both boys still sleeping.

And that Griffon had moved the poet to the bed. It occurred to you that someone changed the sheets at some point, because they were a different color and no longer stained with blood from his previous wound. He was now curled on his side, black haired draped over his face and pained expression lessened a bit. That made you considerably happier. As Nico and Lady took up spots on the couch, you stepped back up to the bed, carefully pulling the covers around the poet all the way up to his chin. You stared at him with a soft expression, wanting to kiss him again but knowing doing so in front of Lady and Nico was a very bad idea. You settled on a soft pat to his head, turning to look at Nero next.

You grabbed a nearby throw blanket from the couch, feeling Nico half focusing on you, and half on getting the bottle open. You tiptoed on the hardwood, gently laying the blanket on Nero’s broad shoulders. Luckily, he was just as deep a sleeper as V. He barely stirred, snores uninterrupted and steady. Jesus, how many energy drinks had he consumed over a short span? There was at least ten cans, which you knew definitely wasn’t healthy. A vague memory hit you, his actions somehow reminiscent of a past you, when you were human--you couldn’t remember the specifics, but you knew you were just like him when you were still  a teenager. Mind you, he was an adult and drinking the sugary, caffeine filled concoctions was probably bad. Still.

After assuring that both boys were covered, you moved back to the living room in enough time to see Nico popping the cork off the bottle. You contented yourself was sliding into an armchair, sitting cross-legged. The loud noise made you look at V, but the boy hadn’t stirred at all. Jesus, Griffin wasn’t lying. V was a heavy sleeper, and you were guessing Nero was less so, but his energy drink induced haze probably left him with a huge crash. Speaking of Griffon, the bird flew over to you and landed on the armchair. He seemed relieved to see you at least slightly more calm, cheeks tinted pink after a nice rest in the hot water. You could feel both girls watching with surprise as he settled himself around your shoulders, head pressed to your cheek.

“Look at you, Chicken!” Nico commented, looking thoroughly amused, “Didn’t take you for the snugglin’ type.”

Griffon let out a snort, shockingly not moving away despite her taunting words--worry must have been stronger than his pride at that moment. It made you feel warm.

“Laugh it up, miss _artist_ ,” He hissed, gold eyes staring coldly at her, “I ain’t movin’. I’m pretty damn comfortable.”

You smiled, patting his head softly. As you did, Shadow hopped down from the bed, coming over to sit on the floor in front of you and plop their head on your lap. Their support felt nice as always, warming your feet a bit as you gave a gentle pat.

“I don’t mind.” You reassured the girls, gingerly accepting a cup of whatever the fruity-looking alcohol was. You sniffed it experimentally, feeling a bit of wariness when it smell sweet and sugary. You couldn’t help but wonder what the alcohol content in it was, but Nico didn’t seem to care. She chugged down her glass, looking downright pleased with herself. You made sure to take a few bites of the food they had laid out on the table--sandwiches, probably from the fridge in Nico’s van.

Griffon sniffed the glass too, making a face of concern as he asked, “Uhhh you ladies sure this is a good idea?” He ruffled his feathers when Nico skewered him with a glare, adding hastily, “Not trying to spoil any fun, just wondering if giving the girlie here booze after a bad experience is a good idea.”

Griffon sounded like the only reasonable one in the room then, at least the only one that wasn’t unconscious. Had you been at least semi-reasonable at that moment, you would have agreed with him. But..you weren’t. The episode with the Void left you in a very bad state of mind, body hankering for some relief of any kind. You hadn’t gotten drunk in a long time, but you felt like you needed at that moment, just to help forget the pain and loneliness of that dark place. Throwing caution to the wind, you tossed back the whole glass, eliciting a laugh from Nico. She seemed pretty pleased, all things considered. Whatever the booze was was sweet, delicious...strong. The taste of alcohol was definitely present.

Lady let out an impressed sound, already on her second glass as well.

“Look at you go,” She hummed, propping her feet up on the coffee table, “You sure you’re old enough to drink?”

You could not handle your booze well, you knew that already. Another ghost of a memory came back, not from your time as a human. From one of your dimensional trips, you went drinking with them as well. Your body composition was the textbook definition of a lightweight. One cup in and it was already warming your stomach, the sensation of being buzzed going right to your head. You shook yourself a bit to try and ward it off, letting Nico pour you another cup. You probably should have eaten more before delving into the sauce, so to speak. But your brain already wasn’t at peak decision making, and it was just gonna get worse. Drinking was definitely breaking down a lot of the walls you had up, bringing out your honesty.

Which was bad. But you didn’t care.

“Mmmm,” You murmured softly, sipping more of the sweet liquid before you replied, “I’m probably older than everyone in this room combined.”

That made the two girls look at you again, Nico blinking in shock. If you hadn’t been so hazy already, you would have seen another look on her face. As if you had confirmed a thought of hers she already had.

  
“Really?” Lady asked, pulling her legs onto the couch and staring at you with curiosity, “How old are you?”

You had already finished that second glass, which was bad.

“Can’t remember,” You said softly, making sure to take a bite of food and whipping the cup to the side when Griffon tried to grab it from you. He seemed to have the good sense that you probably shouldn’t be drinking. Still you continued, unbeknownst to you that you were saying things that probably shouldn’t have been said, “I lost track a long time ago...the Void doesn’t...really have time…”

“The Void?” Lady blinked.

Griffon snapped his beak near the edge of the glass again, making you sigh lightly.

“You’re making bad choices, toots,” He said in your ear, nudging your face lightly as he sighed, “You sure you wanna be doing this? I already told you I can’t take more than one dumbass.”

You let out a low hum, feeling very strange now that alcohol was working into your system.

“Just make sure I don’t kiss V or something,” You said, voice just loud enough for the girls to hear, “Just promise you’ll stop me.”

Before Griffon could reply, Nico smirked, waving that bottle in her hand as she addressed you.

“Got the hots for the poet, Y/N?” She gave a low chuckle, tossing back some snacks and chewing lightly, “Didn’t think he was your type.”

Lady frowned, letting the mechanic pour her another glass, “Pump the brakes. Can we get back to that ‘Void’ comment?” She asked, eyes, still locked on you as you enjoyed the end of your second glass of wine--was it wine? You had no idea, “What is the Void?”

You gripped the glass, brain even more hazy as you completely ignored the sandwich sitting on the table. All good sense gone, it would seem. The feeling of zero restraint felt good, it definitely was helping make the pain go away. But...it was also magnifying it. You wouldn’t say you were the loud, obnoxious type while intoxicated. More so...soft. Alcohol made you honest, quiet, and helped take a lot of the walls away. Griffon was pretty anxious about your fight against sobriety, but you couldn’t really give a damn about that at the moment. Lady had asked you a question, right? You had drank just enough booze to answer her honestly. Way too honestly.

“The Void,” You murmured, eyes half closed as you swirled one last sip of pink liquid at the bottom of the glass, “Is the place I went to the first time I died.”

Both girls stopped dead in their actions, gaze lifting to stare at you in shock. Griffon paused too, a startled look in his eyes as your gaze drifted down, staring at Shadow’s head on your lap. You gently scratched their ears with your free hand, the sound of their purring very nice in your intoxicated state. You kind of wanted Nico to pour you more, which luckily she did when you set the glass down--she didn’t say anything, which would have made you anxious before you had started drinking.

Lady was the first person to speak. She gently reached out, laying a hand on your arm as you started drinking the third glass.

“Y/N?” She murmured, eyes filled with something akin to motherly concern, “You’ve died before?”

You nodded, meeting her gaze with a hazy one of your own.

“More than once,” Your words were only slightly slow, hand still firmly gripping the glass, “Can’t remember how many times.”

Nico let out a low sound of confusion, hopping off the couch so she could scoot over to you. She sat by your feet and Lady’s, bumping Shadow a bit as she crossed her legs.

“What do you mean you’ve died more than once?” She asked, eyes alight with fascination and worry as she looked up at you, “Is it some reincarnation bullshit?”

You shook your head, eyes still half closed as you swirled the glass again. Griffon let out a nervous trill, seeming ready to grab it at any moment in case you dropped it.

“No,” You mumbled, “A lot more complicated. The Deity sends me to these places and if I die I just get sent back. Minus...the first time I went there.”

You were making this a lot more confusing than it needed to be, it showed on their faces.

“Can you explain?” Nico asked, grasping her bottle of booze between her hands, “Y/N..what does all that mean?”

 _Loose_ _Lips. You had loose lips._

You settled in the chair a bit, letting out a light “oof” when Shadow leapt up, determined to sit in your lap. The cat was very, very heavy, but you didn’t mind, letting them rest their head on your other shoulder. That was fine, you could drink around them. Shadow seemed able to sense you were off, gently licking your cheek until you gave a soft smile. You appreciated the sentiment, though in your hazy of intoxication it kind of made you sad, like you didn’t deserve it.

You settled on beginning your explanation, eyes still a bit blurry as you rested your chin on Shadow’s head.

“The Void,” You breathed, hiccuping softly as you continued, “Is a place where broken souls go to die.”

Your words made both girls pause, shock written on their faces again.

You continued, “When I was a human...life must’ve been bad,” You closed your eyes, feeling Shadow let out a low, cat-like sound, “Very bad. No heaven or hell for me, nope...the space in between spaces. A place where...tormented souls go. Too broken for reincarnation or the afterlife,” You took a sip of alcohol, eyes half opening again, “My Deity found me there, erased my memories but left the lingering...emotions, feelings. And now I...I serve him, serve his wills and wishes. No relative made a deal, that...was me.”

Both girls looked quiet, like they didn’t know what to say. Now that you were pouring everything out, you didn’t seem to know to stop. You didn’t like deceiving people, you didn’t like the half-truth bullshit you were forced into. What was the point of lying if these people would end up not caring anyway? You knew you were different, you always had been. You gripped the cup tighter, eyes drifting to the side as a sad smile tilted your lips. Things always had a way of falling apart, of reminding you that you didn’t belong--you were born once, your time to find your place was long gone. That world didn’t work, why should it now?

“It’s funny,” You mumbled, feeling Griffon’s slow breathes by your ear, “Gave up everything...just for one more chance at happiness. But no matter how much I break myself...it never changes anything. I just...move on, back to the Void each time...forgotten. I want to go home, but there’s...no home to go to. It’s a weird feeling.”

You had no sooner stopped speaking when you felt Lady’s arms wrap around you, half pulling you and Shadow out of the chair. You blinked in shock, Shadow letting out a low huff as you both were suddenly pressed to Lady’s chest. A tender embrace. You didn’t know how to react, if you should even move. You...hadn’t been hugged in so long, especially not like this--Lady felt like a mom, gently stroking your hair as she sat down on the arm of the chair to hold you. You felt your breath hitch, hand slipping with the glass. Griffon had been ready, he swooped down to catch it, setting it down on the coffee table with a light trill.

You wanted to cry. _You wanted to cry._ Your eyes teared up, breaths coming shallowly as you wrapped your hands around her waist. It felt nice, foreign. You spent so much time comforting others you couldn’t remember the last time someone went out of their way to comfort you.

Nico put a hand on your leg, giving you a rueful smile as tears started tracking down your face.

“Aww shit,” She tsked, letting out a light, emotional laugh as she scooted even closer, “Our girl here is a sad drunk. Shoulda known.”

Lady patted your head as you continued to sniffle, voice very firm as she said, “It’s okay. Everything is okay,” She wiped away some of your tears, eyes very soft as she said, “You ever need a place to call home, you come with me. I’m your family now. No fighting it.”

“Bullshit!” Nico huffed, crossing her arms while you blinked in shock, “Nero and I already got dibs on her...once he wakes up at least. Kyrie’s parent’s house has plenty of room.”

Lady let out a light sigh, “Can I at least visit?”

Nico chuckled, chugging wine straight from the bottle, “Sure, visit all you wanna. Like the weird, out of town aunt.”

Shadow, pressed between two sets of breasts, seemed pretty content. You were feeling strange, unable to process their words but...it made you warm, comfortable. That sense of loneliness diminished, leaving you feeling safe and contented in Lady’s embrace. The feeling of belonging was very hesitant, but blooming slowly over time--you didn’t want to get your hopes up, not after every time you were crushed before. But Lady seemed honest, and so did Nico. The idea of staying with them wasn’t a bad one...it was tender, nice. Like a dream, only in reality.

One you hoped was real.

Griffon let out a light huff, perched on the back of the couch now and eyeing you with that golden gaze.

“Told you guys it was a bad idea,” He huffed, ruffling out his feathers, “Now she’s cryin’. V’s gonna throw a fit when he wakes up and sees you got her plastered.”

“Mister goth can shove it,” Nico huffed, refilling your glass and handing it back to you, “We’re gonna get her drunk enough to bypass the sad phase.”

“That’s not how it works!” Griffon screeched.

Nico chuckled, flicking a pretzel at the flustered bird. He caught it in his beak, crunching with a light glare.

“Loosen up, feathers,” She chortled, looking a little pink around the edges now. She was clearly holding her liquor better than you, “Girl needs to have fun sometimes--maybe you should let her smooch the sleeping prince. Bet it would perk him right up.”

Griffon shook his head in annoyance, rolling his eyes back as he replied, “You ladies are such a bad influence. I promised Y/N I wouldn’t let her do that,” He looked at you--if a bird could smirk, that would be the expression he had, “As much as she wants to.”

You hiccuped again, wiping your eyes and pointing at him, “Zip it, bird.”

Lady let out a low hum, still resting on the arm of the chair, “You have a thing for the mysterious type, huh?”

Griffon huffed, settling on the table and tilting his head, “They’ve both been ogling each other, since fucking day one. I wanna pull my feathers out, they’re both so fucking stupid,” He let out a light groan, “Especially Shakespeare. Never seen him stumble over a lady before.”

You hiccuped, frowning at the frazzled demon.

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” You mumbled, leaning on Lady a bit, “And it's not...like that.”

Nico let out a low, amused hum, tipped the bottle back and gulping more down, “Doesn’t mean you don’t want it to be that way. Goth seems to care a whole lot about you, it was his idea to stay behind and wait. He was pretty fuckin’ stubborn.”

That made your face heat up, much to your embarrassment. You liked the idea of him caring too much.

“Aww,” Lady cooed, squeezing your cheeks, “What an honest reaction! It’s okay to admit when you like someone, Y/N.”

You let out a light huff, “So what if I do?” You hid behind Shadow a bit, tugging the cat further against you as you added, “He’s kind...I think he’s been through a lot, he needs someone who cares.”

Nico let out a sound of agreement, nodding her head vigorously, “Sure sure. Not sayin’ I don’t think it would be good for him, cause it would. He needs a good girl in  his life to shake him out of his shell.”

Lady nodded as well, sipping her drink as she added, “Just know if he hurts you, I’ll kill him.”

That made you laugh a bit, her sing-song tone making you smile. She sounded like the big sister you never had, and her protectiveness was definitely welcome. Both girls started chatting about the situation, the girl talk bringing back on a strange, nostalgic feel. You couldn’t remember the last time you hung out with some girls, talked, and drank. It felt so strange and normal, you couldn't really grasp onto the sensation. It felt...right, in a way. Despite your sad, crying from earlier you now felt a bit of energy settling in you, carefree now that the revelation was off your shoulders.

When you tuned back into the conversation, Lady and Nico were still discussing the sleeping poet.

“I’m just sayin’,” Nico huffed, tapping her nails on the table rhythmically, “Skinny guys can be packin’. Have you checked his feet?”

Lady smirked, leaning back on the armchair and replying, “Ask me nicely and I’ll go over and take one for the team.”

You giggled lightly, leaning a head on Lady’s shoulder as you murmured, “He has big hands, does that count?”

Griffon let out a staged gasp, narrowing his eyes on you.

“Thought you were jokin’ about that hand fetish, toots,” He clicked his tongue, sounding heavily skeptical of you, “First a feeding fetish, now this. You’re a nasty, naughty girl.”

You huffed, “I don’t have a feeding fetish. Just look at him, he needed to eat.”

Nico let out a light laugh, everyone looking over at the poor, unsuspecting poet. You were damn lucky he hadn’t woken up yet, still peacefully snoozing away with his head pressed to the pillow. Those hands were resting near his body, his fingers long, elegant. You had to admit, especially in that drunken haze, that you had a thing for his hands. The thought made you sigh, resisting the urge to fan your face. Maybe drinking wasn’t the best idea, you were getting kind of dizzy and...well, giddy. Past the phase of sad, still without boundaries it would seem. It was a good thing you asked Griffon to keep an eye on you, cause you could have definitely kissed the poet.

“Boy does need a sandwich,” Nico tsked, eyeing V’s skinny frame, “He also needs some pussy too.”

Lady choked on wine, coughing while you stared at the mechanic in astonishment, “Nico!”

Nico shrugged, leaning back against the couch with a single eyebrow wiggling up and down, “What? I speak the truth, boy needs a good lay. Way too stuck up his own ass.”

Lady, shockingly nodded at that, clearing her throat quietly after her coughing fit, “I have to second that. Though you’re a sweet girl, Y/N. Don’t want him using you for some passing sex.”

You snorted, “I highly doubt it’s the case. But I appreciate it.”

Nico chugged the remainder of her bottle of wine, swaying as she rose to her feet. She let out a disappointed sigh, cracking her knuckles after setting the glass bottle down on the table with a firm thud. Both you and Lady looked up at her when she did so, watching as she started walking toward the door. She was a little tipsy, stumbling a few times and catching herself on a wall with a light snicker. You smiled--you had never seen Nico in such a state before, the mechanic always seemed pretty focused on work and put together. It was fun, at least to you, to have a some time not spent working with all of them.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Griffon said, huffing lightly as he watched her struggle to open a simple doorknob.

Nico grinned, turning to wave at you and Lady.

“To get more booze.”

_(V POV)_

_~ Few hours earlier~_

You still hadn’t woken up from your sleep, which was heavily upsetting to the poet.

He was sitting beside you in his chair, occasionally watching your face to see if you stirred. It looked like you were heavily sleeping now, not starring with glassy black eyes anymore. Somewhere around the six hour mark, you had cleared of your symptoms, eyes closing and body relaxing onto the bed. Everyone took it as a good sign. But that was a couple hours ago, and now you were still asleep, more than likely regaining the energy you lost or repairing the damage the whole ordeal had caused. V made sure to stay by you for most of the time, only rising to stretch a few times or help Nico when she requested it. Now he was sitting again, listening to the two women quietly chat and occasionally watching Nero toss back a few energy drinks.

V had a lot on his mind. The events of the previous day had left him...hesitating, wondering what he should do. He valued your companionship, valued the closeness to you he had gained...but it put you in danger. You were willing to break yourself to protect him. You did break yourself. But he didn’t want that, wanted you safe from that kind of thing. Guilt had already been gnawing at him, but now even more was piled on. It wasn’t your fault, he blamed himself for not being strong enough. As always, his actions could have risked your life, it caused harm to your well-being. Maybe it would be best if he put some distance, just to keep you safe.

Nero walked over upon seeing V pondering, leaning against the wall nearby and holding a can of something that looked sugary and full of caffeine.

“What’s got those wheels turnin’?” He asked lightly, sliding his gaze over to you and giving you a once over, “She’s looking alright now, you should be happy.”

V let out a low hum, eyes half closed as he stared ahead and leaned on his cane. He didn’t know why, but talking to Nero felt...nice. Easy. The boy was very talkative, but he was alright with listening too as needed. His concern was nice, at least.

“It doesn’t change that my actions got her hurt,” He murmured, gripping the top of the cane and closing his eyes, “Perhaps it would be safer if she traveled with Nico.”

Nero visibly paused, can half raised to his mouth as he slid his eyes over to the poet. V wasn’t paying him a lot of attention, not noticing how Nero rose a slow brow. The white-haired boy clicked his tongue lightly, sliding past the poet to sit down on the bed right next to your sleeping form. V bit back a protest--you weren’t jostled a lot, and it definitely seems like you weren’t waking anyway. Eyes still closed, light colored lashes resting on those soft cheeks. V wanted to reach out and stroke your face, but it was highly inappropriate behavior, he knew that. But it felt so wrong not to try and do anything to comfort you after you  did everything for him.

“Hey, uh, V?” Nero said, putting a single hand on the goth’s shoulders, “How ‘bout I give you some much needed advice?”

V blinked, unsure of where the boy was going with his train of thought. Still, he replied, “Certainly.”

Nico gave a crooked smile, a bit of an exasperated look in his eyes.

“That is the dumbest idea,” He said slowly, carefully, but without heat, “That I have ever heard. And as a committed, happy man in a relationship with a wonderful woman, I’m gonna tell you why.”

V opened his mouth to reply, but not sure what to say to that.

Nero took it as an opportunity to continue, leaning back on the bed to look at you, “Take it from me, buddy. Leaving her behind would be literally the most hurtful thing you can do, and that’s so not cool,” He looked back at the poet, slate blue eyes serious for once as he met V’s gaze, “You made a mistake, sure, whatever. That’s fine. But don’t do something that’s gonna punish her just because you’re scared. You stand up, brush off the dirt, and you strive to do better. Cause I’m gonna tell you now, nothing that you say will ever convince her that it isn’t her fault, she’s gonna blame herself for your hurt pride, and that’s unfair.”

V looked away, hating how transparent he appeared in that moment. Was what he was thinking really that obvious? He’d like to hope not, but the way Nero was watching him made him think the kid was reading his exact thoughts. V griped the cane, gritting his teeth a bit as he looked down at the floor. Nero was right, he knew the boy’s words held the truth. You took on so many burdens, you went out of your way to help and do your best in every scenario. Distancing himself from you, especially after all that you had gone through on his behalf...he knew that it was wrong. Still, the thought of you getting hurt again was so unsettling.

Nero seemed to sense the poet battling with himself, letting out a slow breath.

“Y’know,” He said in a soft tone, taking on a far away look for a moment, “Kyrie was put in danger once, and the first time around I wasn’t able to protect her. She was put into a terrible situation and I wasn’t able to stop it,” He puffed out his cheeks with a breath of air, scratching the back of his head as he added, “But I never thought of leaving her because of my own weakness. I brushed off the dirt, I moved forward. I saved her, and I continue to strive to do better. For her.”

He slid his gaze back to the poet, giving him a light pat on the back and a crooked, encouraging smile.

“So cheer up,” He said simply, rising to his feet again, “Know I’ve got you back, and I know if anyone is gonna learn from his mistakes and move past them, its you.”

V met his gaze, staring for a brief moment as an understanding silence passed between the two. V gripped his cane tighter, letting out a slow breath from his lungs as he looked away.

“...Thank you, Nero.”

_~Present time~_

V awoke with the start, jerked out of sleep by the sound of something crashing to the floor.

His eyes whipped around, noticing right away that he was now on the bed instead of you. Panic hadn’t even had a chance to bloom before he saw you, curled up in the armchair on Lady’s lap. You were smiling and giggling, the sight balm on his wounded soul as he quickly sat up in place. Lady was giggling too, hell there was a lot of giggling going on in this room at that moment. Upon further inspection, several things continued to click in place--One, a couple empty bottles of wine littered the coffee table now. Two, you were very pink in the cheeks. Three, Nico was sitting cross legged on the floor, starting with a disgruntled expression and a broken vase sitting on the tile nearby. It looked like she had tossed a metal arm at some point and hit it. That was what woke the poet up.

Nero was awake now as well, sitting up at the dining table with a disgruntled expression, the indentation of his metal arm on his cheek and head--it also looked like someone had written “Dead Weight” on his forehead hastily with a pen. He was frowning at the scene, confusion in his eyes as he probably registered everything V had. Shadow was curled up on the couch, meeting the poet’s gaze with a low growl, alerting the other girls to look up at him. 

V blinked, feeling a twinge of unease now that three female gazes were trained on him. The look in your eyes made his heart beat faster--you looked delighted to see him, though guessing by the empty bottle...alcohol was at play here. V didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Ahhh, shit,” Nico hiccuped, southern drawl slurred as she stared at V, “We woke up sleepin’ beauty.”

V felt his brow raise, coming to his feet with the use of his cane. He kept his eyes on you, taking a few steps down the stairs as he addressed the drunken group of females.

“When did she wake up?” He said in a displeased tone, plucking an empty bottle from the table and sniffing it, “Are you women drunk?”

“As a skunk,” Nico quipped cheerfully, raising another bottle that still had booze--it was pink, whatever it was, “She woke up like...an hour ago. Or two. Or three. Was it four?”

V let out a light sigh, rubbing a hand down his face. Things had escalated pretty quickly from the time he had slept to now. He looked around, frowning when he didn’t see his second familiar.

“Where is Griffon?” He asked, eyeing the plastered women warily.

“Over here…!” Griffon hissed. V turned, seeing him perched on top of the cabinets, squinting down with annoyed eyes. V rose a brow at him, tilting his head as he addressed the bird. Griffon shook out his feathers, letting out a sharp squawk before snapping, “And before you ask, I’m here because Nico kept wanting to pull out my feathers while drunk. Nowhere is safe, hide your keys, hide your kids, hide your genitals…!”

Nero yawned at the dinner table, standing up and rubbing his red cheek with a groan. He walked up to V’s side, an exasperated look as he glared at the mechanic on the floor.

“What the hell, Nico?” He asked, shaking his head lightly, “I leave you alone for a few hours and you get the girl shit-faced? What do you have to say for yourself?”

She shrugged, taking another sip of booze. Nero tried to snatch the bottle, but she was somehow faster.

“Back off, you dork ass loser,” She huffed, squinting at him and pointing a finger, “We’re having girl time…!”

You let out a low giggle at that, still firmly tucked against Lady’s chest. Lady seemed the least intoxicated of the three, or at least she was very low-key about it. V saw her smile, squeezing you against her with a light embrace, totally smitten. V scratched the back of his head--what the hell had he missed? You met his gaze again, eyes sparkling with mirth and obvious intoxication. V couldn’t help it, he gave a wry smile back, concern softening at the sight of you having an obvious good time. Though your eyes did look a little puffy, like you had been crying earlier--it was either that or just another sign of the alcohol.

“Oops,” You murmured, eyeing him and blinking a bit, “I think V is upset--are you upset?”

He thought your eyes started to tear up, making him blink in shock and confusion.

Nico let out a low noise of warning, trying to rise to her feet but stumbling all over herself. Nero caught her, letting out an exasperated sigh as Nico slurred, “Uh-oh, she’s goin’ sad again. You better shut that shit down, pretty boy.”

“Bed. Now.” Nero commanded before V could move, looking over at all the girls with an exasperated smile.

Nico huffed, “You can’t make me.”

“I’ll call Kyrie,” Nico replied, tugging her toward the door to her van, “She’ll make you.”

“That threat doesn’t work on me…!” She struggled, letting out a shriek of annoyance as she tried to reach for the arm on the floor, “I have to finish my repairs on Sweet Surrender…!”

“For fuck’s sake Nico, let it go,” Nero groaned, lifting her up by her waist and dragging her, “Why that arm of all of them?! Just stop strugglin’ and get your ass to bed!”

“I wouldn’t have to make that arm if you could find the clitoris, dumbass!” Nico’s voice faded with the closing of the door, their arguing cut short. V let out a light sigh, turning in enough time to see Lady pulling you to your feet. You were swaying a bit, wiping your eyes sleepily and easily losing your balance. Lady caught you when you started to fall, both of you giggling as you steadied. V was about to move forward, concern prickling in the back of his mind as he watched this happen. How does one go about handling intoxicated women? He couldn’t ever remember being in this situation before.

“Bed time, sweetie.” Lady hummed, eyeing V with an amused look as she suddenly pushed you in his direction. You squeaked as he suddenly caught you, your weight resting against his long form. What was Lady doing? V held you up with one hand, looking at the woman with a confused expression and heart hammering in his chest. You were warm against him, a far cry from what you had been while ill earlier. So very alive, healthy now. Your hair looked freshly cleaned, drying in waves over your shoulders. If V wasn’t mistaken, he caught the scent of mint and rosemary--it must have been the shampoo Nico uses.

“I’m going to bed,” Lady yawned, lying down on the couch with a small grin, “Make sure she gets to sleep, okay V?”

She left no room for argument--V definitely sensed shenanigans here.

Regardless, he clicked his tongue, wrapping an arm around you to help carry you to the bed. Griffon launched himself from the cabinets, latching onto your shoulders to help. You had your eyes half closed, blinking blearily and putting up no fight at all, the opposite of Nico. You also let out a light sigh, leaning your cheek against his chest, making the poet realize he was still without his vest-coat. The sensation of your lips brushing his skin made him feel like he had to clear his throat, gently setting you down on the bed.

“Are you alright?” He murmured, tilting your chin up gently to get a look at you, “You’re flushed. Absolutely wasted.”

You smiled lightly, closing your eyes and saying quietly, “I’m okay,” You then paused, face slowly switching to what he recognized as guilt as you let your gaze drift away, “I…I’m sorry.”

V’s lips parted, his expression softening a bit as he stared down at you, “Why are you apologizing?” He asked gently, cupping your jaw a bit to turn your gaze back to him.

Your eyes teared up, a sight that made his heart ache terribly.

“Everyone had to wait a day because of me,” You hiccuped lightly, words slightly slurred, “And I...I lied to you, earlier. I’m...sorry.”

V paused, breath catching as Nero’s earlier words echoed in his head. _No matter what he said you were going to blame yourself._ Clearly you were, the guilt was very obvious on your face while you were drunk. You looked like you were about to cry, eyes a little misty and a definite look of vulnerability on your face. V couldn’t remember a time when he had seen you like this, on the verge of tears and so sensitive. And soft. He could tell a few of your walls had been broken down, everything was different after the entire ordeal. Something about it made him want to draw you into his arms and hold you, cradle you to his chest and dry your tears. He could feel Griffon watching you both, unusually quiet from where he perched on the bed post. But...still.

V tilted your head back up, wiping some of the tears from your eyes with his thumbs. He pressed his lips to your forehead, just like did earlier. Your skin was warm, and soft. You sucked in a sharp breath, shoulders relaxing a bit and eyes closing gently. V thought he heard Griffon chuckle, but the bird looked away, humming lightly like he was minding his own business. He definitely wasn’t. Still, V tried to ignore him, pulling back from you softly so he could murmur in your ear.

“It was my error,” His voice was low, breathy, “Please don’t worry yourself--we all needed today, I think. And tomorrow is another day.”

You let out a low murmur, cheeks adorably pink as you replied to him, “O..Okay…”

V smiled softly, smoothing some of your hair away. He then turned, walking to the other side of the bed so he could lie down beside you--luckily this bed was big enough to accommodate you both easily. He stretched out his form, reaching out a hand to grasp your hand and tug lightly. He expected you to lay down further away from him, facing the opposite direction as you had that first night. But you, as always, were full of surprises.

You turned, eyes already half closed as you slid under the covers, directly facing him. You looked completely out of it, eyes a bit hazy as you laid your head down on the pillow..inches from his own. He blinked, breath catching lightly as his heart pounded in his chest. Somehow, being this close to you was...he couldn’t describe it.

You were still holding his hand, pressing it gently to the underside of your face as your eyes began to close, cradling it tenderly. V couldn’t stop himself, he stroked his thumb over your cheek. You looked so gentle, and peaceful. A far cry from the pain and fear earlier, it set his heart at ease. He wanted to say something to you, but he didn’t know what. He wanted to bridge the gap between you, but _didn’t know how._ He was at a loss, unable to shake the feeling of urgency his mind was telling him.

Griffon curled up on the bed beside his head, seeing his expression and letting out a low chortle. He leaned over, hissing in his ear, “Look at you, lover boy. Like a deer frozen in the headlights,” He nudged his back with a claw, adding in an encouraging whisper, “She’s had a rough day, lover boy. She was cryin’ earlier. She can use the support right now.” His tone had a meaningful edge, borderline a warning for the conflicted poet.

You had been crying? He desperately hated the fact that he hadn’t been awake to help you, but he couldn’t change the past. He could only change what happened now.

So he swallowed his fear, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. You let out a light murmur of confusion, now right against him and blinking blearily. Your hands cradled between your bodies, pressed to his chest, both of his arms holding you. The embrace felt right, warm, and gentle. He rested his chin in your hair, inhaling the light scent of mint and rosemary as he counted your breaths. He thought he heard you let out a soft sound of relief, body relaxing against his and face nuzzling into your chest. You were smiling now, he could feel that, your gentle breathing brushing his skin with every passing second.

“Goodnight.” You mumbled softly, legs gently stretching against his.

V felt his heart calming, he knew you could hear it. He felt Shadow curl up behind you, then Griffon behind him--both seemed pretty content as well.

And for once in his life, so was he.

“Goodnight, little sparrow.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christ this chapter was rough. Wifi has been broken and the chapter broke, im dying.

_Chapter 11_

Upon waking, you were a cacophony of emotions.

One? Regret. Drinking had left you feeling a bit miserable when you started blinking awake. You put a hand to your head, grunting softly at a pretty gnarly headache that rose to meet you. Well, that was one lesson learned--drinking was definitely not the best idea you ever had, but that was beside the point. Onto the second emotion, which was definitely connected to the slow realization that arms were wrapped around you. Breath in your hair, legs half resting on yours, body to body. Spooning. Your face flushed, entire being immediately recognizing the lanky form lightly hugging yours. _V._ He was sharing the bed with you, holding you in what could only equate to a tender embrace.

Suddenly that headache bothered you a thousand times less.

You were so torn. On one hand, you were loving the close contact. He was so warm, so welcome. The sound of his gentle breathing and his soft skin touching yours was making your head spin a bit. On the other hand, it made you wonder just how out of hand the drinking had got last night--you hoped to god you hadn’t done anything super uncomfortable to the poet to cause this. Your memories were vague, fuzzy. You remembered a lot of giggling, a lot of crying, V’s hands touching your face. Christ, you hoped Griffon kept you from forcing a kiss on him.

Speaking of the bird, he was curled up by your heads again, snoring lightly. Shadow was lounging by your feet, cracking one eye open to lazily stare at you. This bed was queen sized, definitely big enough to fit you, V, and all the familiars. Minus nightmare, who was still in V’s hair. You took a deep breath, relaxing in the poet’s arms a bit as you thought over how to get up without waking him. It looked like no one else was up yet, luckily. You were sure you wouldn’t hear the end of it from Nico and Lady if they saw you spooning with the sandal-wearing goth. Not that you minded--you would happily do this with him again, at a later date.

You closed your eyes again, counting his breaths. Your power was definitely back, so you snuck him some energy before he woke up and scolded you. You wanted him to get up feeling refreshed and healthy, despite the hangover you were rocking. Still, you had to admit waking up like this was pretty distracting for you in the pain department. And you had worse pain the previous day, a little headache was nothing. As for Lady, or worse Nico...They wouldn’t be having a good morning, not at all. You would do your best for them too.

As you mused, you felt the poet behind you stir a bit, letting out a light sigh. You slowed your breathing, not wanting to get up yet. Mind you, there was a lot to do and time to recover from the missed day, but...The peace felt nice. Being with him felt nice--Griffon was right, you had it _bad_. It was the fourth day, and you already felt comfortable enough sharing a bed with the man, craved it. You didn’t want to know what sleeping  alone felt like again, and that was definitely a sign that you were absolutely in over your head.

Regardless, you felt V disentangle himself from you, much to your heavy disappointment. You fought a sigh, ready to bring yourself out of your own resting position when something the poet did stopped you. You felt him sit up and pause, letting out a slow sigh into the quiet air. Then, his hand was there, stroking your wavy locks. Softly, tenderly. Delight and surprise filled you, body resisting the urge to jolt the instant he touched you. This morning was just full of surprises it would seem, full of peaceful things that you once took for granted. Never again.

You let him continue for a few seconds, waiting for the right moment to slowly blink open your eyes. He paused for a moment when you did, but still rested his hand on your head as you yawned and rubbed your aching face. Christ, reality was so strange at that moment.

“Well well,” V said in that low purr, wearing his familiar half- smirk when you turned to look at him, “Look who’s finally awake.”

You gave a small smile back, pulling yourself up and hating how your ears rang. You put your hands to your head, letting out a low groan of, “Oww..”

“Ahh, and there it is,” V chuckled, stroking a hand over your aching head, “The culmination of last night’s activities.”

You winced, lifting your gaze again to meet his bemused one. Damn him for waking up looking perfect and wonderful, despite the fact that you definitely helped with that.

“Laugh it up,” You huffed, eyes narrowing on him as you lowered your hands, “But you’re the one who gets to travel with my cranky ass.”

He let out a low chuckle, the way his eyes sparkled with mirth making your heart speed up. He stroked your head once more, making your eyes close a bit before he slid out of the bed. Shadow was blinking awake at your feet, yawning in a great display of mighty jaws and teeth. Absolutely adorable. Griffon was pulling himself up to, letting out a low, bird-like trill as he shook out his feathers. You smiled, pleased that no one seemed worse for wear after the fuzzy night of drinking. You, too, felt like yourself. No lingering bad feelings, no nightmares today.

“Don’t you fuckers know how to sleep in?” Griffon muttered, gold eyes meeting yours. He squinted, probably noticing your good mood, all things considered. He let out a low, evil chortle, hopping closer as he hissed, “Well now, don’t you look cheerful, girlie. How did being little spoon feel? Bet you loved being held in the Poet’s big, strong arms.”

You shrugged, a bemused look in your eyes as you contemplated arguing his words. But there wasn’t really any point.

“Yep,” You replied, picking him up to deposit him on your shoulders while you slid out of bed, “Though my head is killing me.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” Griffon said sarcastically, eyeing the empty bottles still on the table as you stood, “Though I gotta say, I admire your honesty, toots.”

You chuckled, giving Shadow a pat on the head as the mighty cat hopped down from the mattress, extending in a luxurious stretch of their front paws. You did the same, only pulling your arms over your head once Griffon flew over to V, dressing himself in the dining room. It occurred to you that you had slept in the arms of a shirtless man all night, which was definitely a plus. One you weren’t going to think about. But you did think about how you felt considerably closer to the poet now. And that pleased you, absolutely tickled pink.

You settled on sitting on the dining room table, summoning a banana to eat while V situated himself. Only once he was done getting dressed did you toss one at him too, enjoying the face he made when the fruit registered in his palm.

“Back to the food I see,” He hummed, eyeing you with a bit of concern, “Are you...sure you’re alright?”

The question made your chest squeeze. It finally occurred to you the events of the previous night, of everything that had happened. You realized that you had no idea how V reacted to it all. What had happened after you passed out? You assumed it was the poet who found you on the bathroom floor, who sent Griffon to find the others. There was a hint of tired worry in his eyes, that concern definitely rooted in something terrible. You felt...awful. You hated the idea that your actions had caused him to be hurt, hated that you put him through a bad experience. Somehow the sensation of his ache was worse than the pain you went through.

You smiled softly, cheerful despite the squeezing of your heart.

“I’m okay,” You promised, crossing your legs on the table, “Promise. No lies this time.”

He let out a slow breath, tapping his cane on the ground and eyeing you with that smoldering look of his.

“I believe you,” He murmured, eyeing the banana you gave him with a wry smirk, “If only you were so honest with your fetishes.”

You snorted a laugh, grinning as you  finished off your own food, “You can’t handle my fetishes, pretty boy. Don’t ask about what you don’t want the answers to.”

“Ahh,” V slid his gaze over you, half sitting on the table and crossing his long legs, “Curiosity did kill the cat, but _satisfaction_ will bring me back.”

The way he said “satisfaction” kind of made your toes curl.

“Satisfaction is a luxury,” Your voice was steadier than your felt, heart pounding away with that stupid excitement as you let out a light hum, “So I have to make you work for it, don’t I?”

He smiled again, and that smile had implications. The whole conversation felt...different. Charged with energy, border-lining on sexy and playful. Flirting. You were flirting with him. As he tasked himself with carefully eating the banana you gave him, your mind raced. Something was definitely different between the two of you, as if the previous night’s events had left you both stepping over a line at the same time. You knew you had made up your mind to be more honest with your feelings. But V...seemed to be a little riskier too, which was both a relief and a curse. A relief, because you wanted to be closer to him. A curse, because it was making you as giddy as a teenage girl with your first crush.

Griffon was not immune to the sensation. He landed on your shoulder, letting out a low, pleased chortle as his beak snapped near your ear. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes held every unsaid jibe.

The distinct sound of Lady rising from the couch followed, both you and Griffon turning to see the lovely woman slowly sitting up. Her hair was a bit tussled, a groan leaving her as soon as she was no longer horizontal. You could sympathize--you weren’t feeling your best after the alcoholic frenzy. Though you knew you had it easier, you could recover with some food and fresh air. The normal humans would not. The woman in question turned to blink at you and the poet blearily, hand rubbing her temple as she registered back with reality.

You smiled, giving a small wave of your hand, “Good morning, Lady.”

She grunted, rising to her feet and stretching.

“‘Morning,” She murmured in reply, face scrunched up in obvious discomfort as she took a few steps closer to you, “Not so good. Christ, my head.”

“I’m so sorry,” You replied in sympathy, smiling as you extended some tendrils over to her to wrap around her wrist. She blinked in surprise when you did so, eyeing them with a mixture of wariness and curiosity. It occurred to you that she still hadn’t seen them yet, only knowing you for a day now, “Here, let me help a bit. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

You whispered that familiar line, sending a small jolt of energy into the woman and enjoying how her expression shifted to awe. You didn’t give too much, not wanting to risk wasting much needed energy very early in the day. Still, it would relieve some of the throbbing headache the woman was surely feeling, and that was better than nothing. You could feel V watching you, finishing off his food much to your contentment. He had learned that arguing with you on the food issue was definitely pointless, you would not be swayed. He was a bean pole, and you were determined to help him in any way you could.

“Wow,” Lady said simply, drawing your attention back to her, “That felt...wild. I do feel better.”

You smiled, “I’m glad. Still, try to take it easy today, if you can.”

“That goes double for you, toots!” Griffon squawked at your words, snapping his beak by your ear and making you wince, “Practice what you preach…! No exerting today, no fancy invocations…!”

You sighed, not wanting to argue, especially not when V looked like he was in complete agreement with the bird.

“Yes sir.”

Clanging followed from the garage, followed by the door opening and Nero sticking his head inside. All turned to face him, you smiling when you saw his squeaky clean face and damp hair. It looked like he had taken a shower, probably having to scrub at that pen writing on his face to get it off. He was lucky you hadn’t sat in there for a half hour the other night like you wanted to. He was one of the only group members not hung over, but luckily his leg was no longer bandaged, now completely healed and ready to go.

“Which one of you douchebags,” He growled, eyes traveling over you and Lady, “Wrote ‘dead weight’ on my forehead?”

You rose a brow, not wanting to be a snitch.

Lady seemed to have similar thoughts, letting out a low yawn and turning her gaze away. An unspoken agreement passed between you two, obviously annoying the white-haired demon hunter. You liked Nero, you really did, but you couldn’t throw the obvious culprit under the bus. Hell, you didn’t even know why the whole ‘dead weight’ joke was a thing, but guessing by Nero’s obvious annoyance and that twitching muscle under his eye, it was a sore subject for him. Probably why he got so mad when Griffon said it days earlier.

“I’m so disappointed in you both,” Nero clicked his tongue, crossing his arms as he entered the room, “You both know damn well who did it, but you won’t just confirm it.”

“Did you see who did it, Y/N?” Lady said, examining her cuticles in a lazy display of disdain, “I didn’t, don’t remember a thing.”

You shrugged, playing with a lock of your hair as you replied, “Cannot recall, Must be the booze.”

Nero groaned, rolling his eyes as he turned away, “You guys are the worse. Can’t even believe this shit.”

You smiled, hopping off the table and hearing V follow you as you approached the disgruntled boy.

“Sorry, Nero,” You replied, patting him on the shoulder, “I’ll make it up to you somehow. How is Nico doing this morning?”

Nero made a face, inclining his head toward the door he came through. You heard a distant groan, and the sound of a clanging--Nico was definitely awake, and definitely not happy this morning. You smiled ruefully, hearing her trail of carnage as she made her way through the van, then shoved open the door from the garage. V took a step back, probably not wanting to get involved with the chaos the hungover woman was bringing--smart of him. Nico definitely looked frazzled, hair a mess and bags under her eyes. She took that alcohol well, but the following morning seemed less than stellar. You felt bad for her.

“What are y’all lookin’ at?” She scowled once every eye in the room was on her disheveled form, “What time is it?”

Nero checked a clock on the wall, letting out a low hum. As if Nico’s suffering pleased him.

“Ten in the morning,” He replied, crossing his arms again as he regarded the woman, “We should probably head out, lots to do today.”

Nico groaned, scrubbing a hand down her face, “Shit, that late already?” She looked over the room, scowling a bit as everyone started to gear themselves up. You rushed over to put everything you needed in your bag, absorbing it back into yourself. You then tasked yourself with quickly changing into your normal clothes, not caring who saw you in your panties. V and Nero quickly turned their backs, like gentlemen, while Lady covered Griffon and Shadow’s eyes. Nico openly watched, you could tell. But when you turned your bare back toward them, it occurred to you that neither of the woman had seen it yet.

You heard Lady suck in a breath, and you blinked, quickly pulling on your blouse to hide the jagged scaring all over your back. Yikes, you never explained that.

“Holy shit,” Nico said in a hushed voice, “Y/N, what the hell happened to your god damn back?”

You saw V’s shoulders twitch like he wanted to turn and look, but the precious boy managed to keep himself composed. You smiled softly, vaguely thinking that you wouldn’t have minded if he snuck a peak, which was a dangerous thought. Although, it now became apparent to you that you definitely spilled a lot to the girls last night that V hadn’t heard. You fought a groan, realizing just how many facts you had let loose--both knew your secret now, but the poet didn’t. You held the scars of every time you died, but you couldn’t say that. Not now, not in front of V and Nero. You weren’t exactly comfortable with telling those secrets to them yet, not without the use of alcohol.

Hell, had you not been drunk you wouldn’t have even told the girls. But you were glad you did. You just needed time.

“That’s a story for another time,” You replied, tugging on your combat boots and lacing them, “It’s safe to turn around boys.”

Both immediately turned, relieved to see you now clothed. V’s expression, at the very least, was slightly relieved. And slightly…

Was that disappointment? He looked a bit concerned too, as if he knew there were things that the girls knew and he didn’t. You felt bad, but you couldn’t bring yourself to share everything...not now.

“Warn a guy next time before you start stripping,” Nero huffed, scratching the side of his head, “Some of us are committed men.”

“One of us,” V replied, giving a wry smile, “In fact you’re the only committed man in the room, Nero.”

You chuckled, “Sorry sorry. Was just in a hurry,” You walked by, completely ready now and patted his cheek, “I’ll make sure to tell Kyrie your chastity is preserved.”

“Wow, thanks,” Nero said in heavy sarcasm, rolling his eyes and turning to follow you. He spared the mechanic a passing glance, tone stern as he replied, “Please do not start drinking again. We’re gonna head out, you and Lady be ready to respond if needed.”

“Yeah yeah,” Nico replied with a huff, scratching the side of her face and wincing, “Don’t get your panties in a twist. You know my number.”

You smiled, wrapping your tendrils around her waist as you passed toward the door. A small jolt of energy made her eyes fly open, gaze whipping around to stare at you as you relieved some of her fatigue and pain. This was her first time feeling it, which had to be exciting for the mechanic. You smiled, blowing her a light kiss as your group made its way out the door, tendrils retracting back into you. You were sad you were leaving Lady and Nico behind, but there was work to do. You were glad to be on the move again, but the girl time you were allowed was both wanted and needed. Just...maybe with less booze next time, if there was a next time.

Lady gave you a little finger wave, an adorable smile on her face as you returned it. Upon entering the garage, you were delighted to see the sun shining beyond the garage door. Nero lifted it with his metal arm effortlessly, allowing you and your group to pass through. Less stellar now that you were facing the bright light head on. You lifted a hand to shield the sun, wincing when it sent a twinge through your skull. Bright, much too bright. And worse so, the black crystal you produced the other day was still there, now glinting and gleaming in the morning glow. A reminder, of sorts. Griffon landed on your shoulders as you stared at it, letting out a low whistle as you both took in the sheer size of the structure--he had been there when it was made, but you got the impression he hadn’t really absorbed how big it was.

“Still can’t believe you made that,” Griffon squawked, his blue feathers glinting in the sun, “That shit was sure somethin’, toots. A real doozy.”

V came up on your right, Nero on your left.

Nero let out a light hum, eyeing the structure with a mix of awe and envy, “Damn, wish I could have been around to see you blow some demons away.”

You smiled, “Maybe another--”

“ _No!”_

All three of them exclaimed at the same time, pinning your startled form in place with varying looks of exasperation. You blinked, holding up your hands defensively but getting the message pretty damn fast--no one liked what the invocation did to you, it would seem. V looked very firm on the issue, jade eyes locking with yours and not moving. There were severally emotions in that gaze, ones that you would not argue with. If anything...it made you feel good.

“N...noted…” You sighed, rubbing the toe of your boot into the ground, “It won’t happen again.”

Nero pat you on the back, a light smirk on his face as he replied, “Don’t sweat it, kid. Bet it was pretty cool, but the results were less than satisfactory.”

“I agree.” V said simply, gripping the head on his cane.

You smiled lightly, rocking back on your heels as Nero started forward, heading to where you remembered Nico telling you to meet them the previous day. Morning four of traveling, one day lost. No one seemed to mind the lost time, which you were grateful for. Nero seemed in pretty high spirits as he led the group to what looked to be an abandoned subway station, rubble and debris lining the platform and tunnel entrance. You fought a groan at the idea of going back underground, but it was at least better than sewers. Cleaner, at least you hoped so. Better lit at the very least.

V walked step by step with you, Shadow on your right and he on your left. Griffon was still perched on your shoulders, and you swore you saw Nero eyeing your group with a bit of curiosity in his expression. You imagined he was intrigued by the strange companionship you had with the demons. V as well, since the poet seemed to be a very mysterious, closed off individual. Little did Nero know, V was occasionally brushing you as you walked, always wearing that smug little smirk when you looked up at him. He never met your gaze, but you know damn well the bastard was doing that shit on purpose. His hand touched your lower back at some point and you thought your heart was going to pound out of your chest.

Oh yes. Things were definitely different.

“I think splitting up would be a good idea,” Nero announced as the subway tunnel branched down into two sides, “Cover more ground that way.”

You frowned before V could agree, eyeing the tunnel with a hesitant look.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” You asked, frowning at the white haired boy, “Why do you guys always wanna split up? Literally that’s the worst idea, haven’t you guys ever watched a horror movie in your life?”

V shook his head, “I don’t believe I have.”

Both you and Nero stared at him for that revelation, a mixture of shock and realization coursing through you. Half of your mind expected that answer, yet you were still startled by it. How the hell had this boy never watched a horror movie? He must have been pretty sheltered...or the opposite, lived a life shitty enough that he never found the time or means. Both sounded awful to you, and probably to the outraged demon hunter next to you.

“Not one?” Nero demanded, “Shit, we need to change that.”

V let out a light sigh, eyeing you both like you were lunatics as he replied, “At a time not now. We need to make haste,” His gaze landed on you, softening considerably as that smirk came back, “I will agree that Y/N raises a point. If we are both traveling in the same direction, I see no reason why we couldn’t share the same path.”

It felt nice when V agreed with you. You were such a simple bitch, his words made you beam in delight. Not only did he decide your plan of action was correct, now you could spend some time with Nero as well. Girls night before, now it was daytime with the lads. You could admit there was a lot of testosterone in the group now, but that was fine in your opinion. You wanted the chance to fight alongside the demon hunter, you were willing to bet there was a lot his fighting style could teach you. Only downside to this was less alone time with the poet, but judging by the weird, magnetic way you two were hovering around each other...it wouldn’t be an issue.

“Fine by me,” Nero shrugged, rolling his shoulders a bit as he pointed his pistol at the two tunnels, “Which one should we pick…?”

You rolled your eyes at his theatrics, giving him a light shove to the right side, “Nico is right, you are such a dork. Just go.”

Nero huffed a bit, putting his pistol back as he started making his way down the tracks, “You’re no fun.”

“I’m an appropriate amount of fun,” You replied in an amused tone, stepping back by V’s side to keep in step with the poet, “I’m just impatient.”

V let out a low hum, pulling out his poems as he walked beside you. You caught a glimpse of the pages, surprised when you noticed what looked to be hand drawn artwork and writing. It didn’t look like this book was printed, but instead was hand made lovingly by someone. You didn’t get to glimpse much, looking away before you were caught peeking. Besides, the peace and quiet wasn’t going to last long anyway. Your foresight began to flare, signaling upcoming demons, making you stop in place to whistle between your fingers and alert the others.

“Get ready,” You warned when Nero and V looked at you, pulling out your daggers, “We’ve got company.”

Somehow, the train tunnels were worse than the sewers.

Hours. You were stuck in there for hours fighting demons. New ones this time, stronger ones. Lizard-like creatures, bigger things with bigger attacks. On one hand, you got to see Nero’s fighting style a bit more, and him being there eased your need to use your own abilities. On the other hand...so much fighting. The subway was crawling with enemies and roots, so much so that your foresight barely stopped flaring. It was pretty annoying, so you just stopped announcing when battles would occur. Because they were always occurring. You were hating it a lot more than the sewers, only difference was there were actually safe places to sit and relax here.

You stopped once or twice, forcing the two boys and the demons to eat. Nero seemed perplexed with your attachment to food, but otherwise didn’t complain and shoved whatever it was you provided down his throat like a gremlin. V still ate his slowly, carefully, like he was savoring it. The brief moments for resting and chowing down were always short lived, interrupted by demons whenever they could slip their gross little noses in. You were a fairly patient person, but you were beginning to associate the underground with just terrible things. Only this time you were being smart about your energy, and keeping close to V and letting Nero do his thing. Which Nero didn’t mind, the kid loved to fight and be brash.

You reached what appeared to be a boarding area for trains, wide open and filled with benches. Nero let out a whoop of delight, setting on the demons with all the energy in the world, certainly more energy that you had for that late in the day. It must have been four in the afternoon by then. You exchanged a glance with V, opting on sitting down on a nearby bench to watch Nero’s  fighting style while you sipped water. V opened his book again to read that poetry, letting his summons do all the work. You and he were similar, he wasn’t enjoying it either. Just out of necessity, a bit of a tired look in his eyes as he murmured those familiar words, stepping to the side to avoid enemy attacks. He did, however, seem to have fun in some instances of battle, like Nero’s high energy was feeding into his own level of extra. He was taunting more now than ever before, and getting more ridiculous.

You wrapped your tendrils around him gingerly, ready to move him away at a moments notice. Nero seemed fine, whatever arm he was using making him a hoppity son of a bitch. He was zipping all over the place.

“How do you have so much energy?” You complained to him, crossing your legs and letting out a light huff as he shot a demon in the head over and over, “It’s ridiculous.”

He let out a light laugh, kicking the demon away and taunting lightly before he replied to you, “Only thing I’m good at is kicking demon ass!”

You smiled ruefully, highly doubting he had zero other skills. At least he was having fun. They were certainly widdling the demons down fast, loud explosions and crackling filling the room with their attacks. A demon went whizzing past you, disintegrating as you winced and leaned to the side. The only problem when fighting with Nero’s aid is that a lot of his attacks sent the demons flying away or knocked back. You partnered well with V’s fighting style, but Nero seemed used to doing shit on his own.

“ _Pin them to a wall._ ” V growled to Shadow, the cat immediately responding and sending a dozen spikes into an enemy.  Sensations of honest to god arousal traveled through you, ones you tried to shake as you quietly sipped water. You were thirsty for something alright. Every time he said something like that you were sent into a tailspin of bullshit, craving, and misbehaving thoughts. You just couldn’t behave it would seem--you had never felt such a chemistry with someone before, nor such a high amount of attraction. There was just something about the poet that was drawing you in.

Way too fast. But that only excited your dumb, idiotic brain.

When the last demon was finally dead, you let out a sigh of relief, hopping up from the bench and stretching your back with a soft groan. Finally, some peace, even if it would probably be short lived.

Nero flicked some blood off his metal hand, cracking his neck before turning to smirk at you.

“I’m gonna go scout ahead a bit,” He said, glancing between you and V for a moment, “You two chill for a bit, I’m gonna clear the way.”

“You sure?” You asked, leaning a hand on your hip, “Promise you’ll shout if things get too rough.”

He laughed, flexing his metal fingers as he replied, “Shit gets narrow up the escalator. I’ll scream like a banshee if I need some help, that good for you?”

You smirked, “I’m down. Have fun, be back before dark.”

“Yes, mom.” Nero mocked.

He gave you a single finger salute, hopping up onto the escalator and sprinting up and out of view. V let out a low hum of relief, leaning against a nearby pillar and closing his book with a low thud. He didn’t look too bad yet, thank god. Griffon was shaking out his feathers and huffing, landing on your shoulders so he could watch the demon-hunter disappear up into the subway.

“Brat sure has a lot of energy,” He grunted, closing his eyes a bit and preening his feathers, “Can’t relate. Sick of dealing with these fucking lackeys. Lower level bastards.”

You smiled sympathetically, patting his feathered head, “You’re doing great, sweetie.”

He grunted, settling down and closing his eyes to rest a bit. V seemed to sense he was tired, so he lifted his cane, summoning the bird back along with shadow in an instant. You blinked in surprise, not used to Griffon returning as well. The instant he did, his tattoos went from slightly faded to flat back, writhing a bit before settling on his smooth, pale skin. You stared in awe for a moment before blinking, trying to shake the sensation from your mind. You were positive V saw you looking.

He walked over to you, cane tapping on the floor with each step as you sat back down on the bench. You wanted to look up at him, but this new energy between the two of you was making you a little nervous, a little hot around the collar. V tapped you under the chin with the silver-handle, tilting your head up a bit to meet his gaze and examine your face. His expression delighted you, making your stomach roll a bit with that nervous excitement you just couldn’t shake.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, giving you that smoldering look from under his lashes, “You haven’t exerted yet.”

You smiled lightly, tapping the end of his cane with your index finger.

“I’m fine,” You assured, eyeing him with a concerned look of your own, “How about you? How is that shoulder feeling?”

He made a big show of rotating it, flexing his arm a bit as he replied, “No worse for wear.”

That made you smile in relief, but it occurred to you that something was...more noticeable now that the fighting was done. You paused, tilting your head and holding up a finger to stop whatever the poet was going to say next. You were positive now, more focused and alert--light music was playing from somewhere.

Now that the area wasn’t filled with the sound of fighting, grunting, and screaming demons--you could hear the sound of faint violin music playing from the subway speakers. Light and gentle, strangely out of place in the broken, grimy setting. You blinked, meeting V’s gaze and putting a finger to you ear. You knew he noticed right away, those full lips parting a bit as he inclined his head. He looked absolutely entranced, that mischievous look appearing in his eyes as he looked up toward the ceiling. Looking for speakers, probably. You liked the expression he had, almost like childish wonder--the same look he got before doing his taunts.

You closed your eyes a bit, listening to the ringing chords of a violin and trying to find some peace in the moment. You could hear Nero lightly fighting up ahead, his echoing shouts and laughter still reaching the main subway platform. Other than that, you could hear just...the music. And V’s slow breaths. That closeness between the two of you seemed even more pronounced now that you and V were alone, truly alone for once in the entire time you had been together. You didn’t quite know what to say, but you wanted to say something--because you were sure he felt it too, this strange energy that had been blooming since day one. The aching, desperate need to be closer, better.

Before you could open your mouth, V’s fingers curled under your chin, making your eyes pop open to look at him.

He had a wry smile on his lips, half tilted upward as he held that same hand out to you.

“Shall I have this dance?” He purred, jade eyes shadowed in the dim light of the subway.

Your heart went racing in your chest, pounding like fists on steel doors. You felt that dumb, eager ache blooming in your chest again.

You smiled ruefully, taking his hand again and letting out a light laugh as he tugged you to your feet. The absurdity of the whole moment was making you giddy, hand entwined with his as he pulled you further into the clearing where just before those demon’s had been killed. God, his skin was so warm. Energized, squeezing your fingers with a gentle encouragement. His face was so very enticing, head tilted down to look at you as he gave you that crooked smile you so enjoyed. He did have a flare for the extra, only this was his first time openly involving you in it, inviting you to join. It felt very...personal.

Oh lord, _you were in over your head_. You were in wayyy over your head.

He tugged you against his lanky form, twirling you around to the sound of the music, humming lightly to the tune. Whatever the song was, he seemed to know what it was. You tried to follow his steps, smiling like a complete idiot as he took you step by step around the room. You felt...so many things. Embarrassed, elated, excited, giddy. You hoped your face wasn’t red from all of it, but your cheeks were already pretty warm. Once the tempo of the song picked up, he gave a light chuckle, wrapping an arm around your waist and lifting you briefly, spinning you around with a light squeak on your part. He seemed to be having a good time, hair waving about his face each time he moved you.

He looked...entrancing. And in that moment you knew just how deep in you were.

You had known him for four days if you were pushing it. Four days to become this smitten with the poet. In all your years of serving the Deity, you had never gotten close enough with anyone to feel romantically attracted to them. And even those you did get close to, none appealed to you on a physical attraction level. Never. You never thought of being touched by any of them, being held by any of them. But this...was new, different. Even as a human, had you ever felt this kind of chemistry before? You highly doubted it, there was something very special about V. Approachable, charming. Mysterious. Maybe you had been doing this too long, maybe all those years of serving with no regard for yourself had left you too lonely.

You didn’t care.

Dancing with V felt both too short and too long. The music came to a slow end, the final chords of a violin ringing out as V bowed to you, hair falling in front of his face as he bent his head over your hand. If you weren’t mistaken, you felt his lips brush your skin, ever so slightly. Your pulse was racing, you knew he could feel it. Instinctively, you took a few steps back toward him, his hand sliding down your wrist as you did so. His fingers felt so precise, gentle. Probing, even. Like he was tracing the very veins under your skin. You met his gaze, letting him pull you back against his chest while still gently griping your arm. A silent, unspoken thing passed between you, the building energy that had started blooming now turning to flower petals.

His hand ghosted along your jaw, an interesting expression on his face as he regarded your warm cheeks, soft lips, and gentle eyes. You could see yourself reflected in his, and that made your heart pound even faster. His thumb brushed your lips, gently tracing the lower one with a tenderness you had never experienced. It made you knees so very weak. You thought you saw his tattoos writhe a bit out of the corner of your eye, his companions sensing their master’s racing heartbeat but not aware of the reason why.

You wanted to kiss him. So badly.

And from the look on his face, he wanted to do the same to you.

But before you could bridge the gap, Nero’s loud voice rang out, echoing from his place further along the subway. You saw V close his eyes, a light sigh being drawn from his lips as the moment you shared came to a halt. You loved Nero dearly, but in that moment you had never been so disappointment in him.

“I found the exit!” Nero’s voice caroled, coming closer as he probably made his way back, “Ready when you guys are!”

You let out a slow breath, closing your eyes and mourning the lost opportunity. But much to your surprise, V didn’t pull away instantly like you expected. He lingered, stroking those fingers over the back of your neck, sending chills down your spine. His lips brushed your ear--you could have easily fainted, knees very weak from the whole experience. Not to mention unbelievably turned on--were you really that starved for attention, that needy? Felt like you were. You could have moaned at the feeling, christ his breath was so hot. Wanting, breathy.

“We will continue this,” V murmured, tone filled with heavy promise, “At a later date.”

With that, he turned away, fingers trailing through your hair and body brushing past yours just as Nero appeared right at the top of the escalator. You kept your back turned, hands pressed to your cheeks as you desperately tried to gain a molecule of composure. Your emotions were written on your face, you couldn’t imagine what kind of expression you were wearing. You wanted to bite your lip, and you wanted...so many things. Fuck, you were in so much trouble.

An unbelievable amount of trouble.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the weird upload schedule, It's been a strange week lol for those of you wondering, I do have a tumblr as well and I post regularly there, asks and the like! Tumblr: https://spirit-of-the-void.tumblr.com/

_Chapter 12_

What the hell were you supposed to do with yourself?

Nero was leading the way back through the subway. The area was completely clean and clear of demons, scorch marks and bullet holes telling a very violent story. You found yourself quiet, unable to think of anything to say while your mind raced the way it did. Completely done in by a little hint of romance. V seemed completely unfazed, his usual confident self as you both followed behind the demon hunter. He hadn’t let Griffon and Shadow back out yet, which you appreciated. You couldn’t imagine how you looked at that moment, but Griffon was definitely smart enough to tell when you were flustered. How dare V be so composed and calm after shaking up your world like that? Very unfair.

You wanted to make it fair.

So you tasked yourself with finding a similar composure. Counting breaths, tapping your fingers on you thigh, biting the inside of your cheek. You thought you saw V steal a few glances at you from under his black hair, but you couldn’t be sure. You were so frustrated. You felt teased, so unbelievably teased. But in a way...maybe this was best--had you kissed him, you don’t know how you two would have acted afterwards. Even this close space contact was just so hard. Was it just simple lust? You doubted that, at least on your part. You could never feel attraction without at least some emotion attached to it.

You kept close to the poet, wondering just how you could get him flustered--probably would have been easier alone. You glanced forward at the demon hunter, who was keeping a close eye on your surroundings. Unlike you.

Nero, for the most part, was completely oblivious--at least to your knowledge. He was flexing his metal arm, flicking blood from in between the gears and fingertips. You noticed he had switched between several different types of arms, this one a little more stream-lined. All made by Nico of course. It was pretty apparent that you didn’t know much about the demon-hunter either, which was kind of upsetting considering how much you enjoyed his company as well. He was a closed book too. Minus the knowledge of him having a fiance named Kyrie, whom he loves and adores. You definitely hoped you could meet her someday as well, you couldn’t imagine what kind of woman she could be to date someone like Nero.

Trying to distract yourself, you cleared your throat.

“So what’s your story, Nero?” You asked, quickening your step a bit to catch up with him. You made sure to give V’s arm a light squeeze when you passed, not looking at his face, “What lead you to a life of fighting demons?”

Nero glanced at you, raising a grey-tinted brow at your question.

“What brought that on?” He asked.

You shrugged, clasping your hands behind your back as you replied, “Genuine curiosity. Realized I don’t know jack shit about a lot of you guys.”

Nero gave a short laugh, rolling his shoulders a bit, “Fair enough. It’s a long story though.”

“If you haven’t noticed,” You smiled lightly, staring at the subway stretching before you, “We’ve got time. Bet V is aching to know your backstory.”

“Mmm.” V hummed, stepping up beside you suddenly and brushing your leg with his cane. You tried not to show how much it affected you. You met his sidelong glance with a smile, resisting the urge to touch his face with you hands--you needed to play nice for now, you weren’t going to force Nero to third wheel. Besides, you had asked the white haired boy a question and you were determined to focus on his answer.

Nero let out a low huff, making a face as he thought over your words, deciding how to answer.

“Have you ever heard of the Order of the Sword?” He asked you, turning his blue eyes back to your face.

Your expression blanked in confusion, “Uh...no.”

“Hooo boy. Settle in then, there’s a lot to unpack.”

You talked as you walked, Nero breaking down a lengthy explanation of the Order of the Sword and everything that had happened to him. About the attack on Fortuna, where he first met Dante. You listened with interest, enjoying learning about the world you were living in and all it entailed. According to the white haired boy, the Order of the Sword was secretly becoming demons and doing naughty things in a search for power, which was pretty typical. Demons had attacked Fortuna, and Nero pretty much learned how to fight them while there. A lot had happened--he apparently fought Dante when they first met, but both worked together to stop the attack and stop the Order. Kyrie was saved, the city a bit messed up afterwards but the rebuilding time had been fast.

He also talked wistfully of his life without parents, growing up in an orphanage where he met Credo and Kyrie. Their parents ran the place, and they were very kind to him growing up. You ached for him--growing up without blood family had to be hard, and judging by the bitter edge to his voice it was a stinging wound. But he spoke fondly of the people he did have, telling you about Credo’s death and how Kyrie had been saved. Christ, the boy had been through a lot. Growing up with a strange arm, fighting this order, then recently losing that arm to a mysterious man. Apparently a sword called “Yamato” was inside of it, and now it was gone. Your head was spinning by the time he was done, and you could hardly comprehend all of it.

V was strangely quiet throughout it all, eyes forward and head tilted as he too listened to Nero’s backstory. You couldn’t read the expression he wore there, but he did seem intrigued.

“So let me get this straight,” You said after he relayed some more information, tapping your nails on your chin, “Nico’s father was a part of this organization, but he was an insane, deadbeat asshole?”

“That’s right.” Nero replied, jaw tightening as he remembered the man he described to you.

“And Dante killed him?” Everything was becoming a bit convoluted. Nero had fought her father at some point, which is how he had acquired the Yamato. But Dante...he was the one who later landed the killing blow, destroying the now-demonized father of Nico. According to Nero, the mechanic hated her father anyway, and wasn’t bothered by the fact that Dante was the one to finished him off. Which you could understand.

“Right again.” Nero inclined his head, putting his hands behind his head and stretching a bit.

Wow. That was definitely a lot to take in

“Nero,” You commented after his lengthy explanation, shaking your head a couple times, “If you ever need like...a hug? I will gladly provide.”

He smirked lightly, sticking his hands in his pockets as he tilted his body in your direction, “Gee, I’m touched,” He rolled his eyes a bit, seeming amused, “Don’t worry about me. I think I’m fine without hugs for now. Not the hugging type.”

You chuckled, clasping your hands behind your back again, “Still, thank you for telling me. If feel like we’ve all learned a lot of important things about you.” Nero’s life really made sense, all that bravado and energy came as a direct result of his very existence. You wished he had lived a better life, with parents who cared, but he turned out okay for the most part. Probably due to Kyrie, the woman you were now very eager to meet.

Regardless, you and your group neared another set of stairs. You immediately saw a payphone resting on a nearby wall, just aching to be used. Nero had gone through a few arms, so you weren’t shocked when the demon hunter made his way over, coin in hand. You personally were just happy to check on the mechanic. The daggers were serving you very well, picking up the slack of your energy and making for some very interesting fights. You pulled one out to examine it a bit, facing the payphone as Nero dialed the mechanic. V took up place by the wall, pulling out his poetry book and quietly reading the pages--you had no doubts he already had them memorized. You eyed him a bit while he was distracted, chest squeezing at the way those long fingers flipped the pages so delicately.

His jade eyes slid up, easily catching you in your staring. You blinked, too stubborn to look away. A challenge of sorts. You met his gaze, smiling brightly and tilting your head at the book. He offered a wry smirk in return, holding the book down a little lower so you could get a better look at them. Well, at least he wasn’t secretive about it. You looked over the beautiful cursive, the bright illustrations only slightly faded with time. You wanted to ask him where he got the book, but were unsure if he would answer for whatever reason.

“Hey, I’ve got a job for you.” Nero said on the phone to the mechanic, making both you and V turn.

You didn’t even have time to react--V suddenly grabbed you, pulling you roughly against him when the wall next to you shattered. Nico’s van came within inches of hitting you, practically grazing Nero’s asscheeks as you squeaked, tucked against the poet. Jesus Christ, how the hell had she managed to get into the fucking subway?! You blinked, turning with the two males to stare incredulously at the driver of the van that almost hit you. She had straight up came busting through the wall, not a scratch on the van but rubble from the concrete sliding off her roof and clattering to the floor. You did not appreciate the free heart attack, the theatrics completely outrageous.

Nico opened the window, still holding the phone and smirking a bit as she met your gazes.

“What do y’all need?” She said innocently, hanging up the phone and blowing a cloud of cigarette smoke.

Nero clicked his tongue, simply walking around to the van door and going in. You were still frozen in place, V’s arms sliding from your form, poet taking a step to the slide now the Nico’s searching gaze was on you both. You tried to ignore how his fingertips lingered on your lower back, tracing a gentle line along your spine. Focus. You needed to focus.

“Hey Nico?” You asked, voice acceptably breathless after almost getting hit by a van, “Do you take criticism on your driving yet?”

“Nope,” She replied, giving an only slightly apologetic smile, “Why? Ya got some complaints?”

You sighed lightly, walking over to lean on the side of the van and stare imploringly at her.

“Please,” You stage-whispered, eyes so very tired, “Stop trying to hit us with the van.”

She let out a light laugh at that, reaching out to pat your head. Her hand was a little stained with oil, but you still didn’t pull away. A smile curved your lips, making a face when a bit of tobacco scented smoke met you.

“In my defense, wasn’t trying to hit you,” Nico replied, tapping her fingers on the window’s edge, “Nero? Maybe.”

“I heard that!” The demon hunter shouted from inside the van, sounding appropriately annoyed.

You laughed, pushing off from the vehicle and brushing off some of the dust from the incident. V’s gentle hand suddenly reached out, stroking your shoulders and upper back. You blinked, looking over at him, seeing him wince a bit as the action set up a cloud of more dust. You fought a giggle, but it still slipped out. He was covered in a layer of his own, the stuff looking like snow on his all black clothing. You turned, grabbing him by the sides of his head so you could tug him down. He seemed startled, letting out a light grunt as you ruffled his locks, coughing lightly when a bunch of dust left him. Damn, maybe another shower later was a good idea. You gave him an apologetic look when he lifted his head, seeming absolutely exasperated with the whole situation.

You shared a long look with him, that needy little voice screaming at the back of your head. You tried to ignore it.

“Maybe wearing all black wasn’t the smartest idea,” You told him,shaking your head at all the white and grey powder on his form, “It’s very noticeable.”

He smirked, lifting his book and shaking it a bit.

“I wasn’t anticipating Nico’s...creative methods of travel,” He replied, eyeing the van with a bit of foreboding, “One would suppose I should keep it in mind for next time.”

You giggled again, leaning against the wall next to him. You couldn’t imagine him in anything other than black clothing. An image of him in brighter colors couldn’t form in your brain, but you were sure some domestic clothes would look very good on him. A nice suit and tie, some sweatpants, a tank top. Ahh, there went your imagination. You banished such thoughts before they could fully form, keeping that smile on your face and trying not to show what a misbehaving thinker you were. V’s eyes were still on your face after all. And Nico’s, you just realized. She had watched the whole exchange, eyes narrowed and lips blowing a thick cloud of cigarette smoke. You met her probing looks, giving her an expression that implored her not to say anything.

Almost on cue, Griffon materialized from V’s tattoos, gusting wings sending all the dust flying from your forms. You coughed, holding out an arm so the bird could land, moving his way to your shoulders. Shadow materialized too, weaving between your feet and the poet’s as they let out a low growl. You were both relieved to see them and disappointed. On one hand, you loved them both dearly and enjoyed their company so much, on the other...No more alone time with the poet. You were so limited with what you could do with Griffon there, despite the bird swearing to being your wingman. He was eyeing you both closely, head tilted and golden eyes glinting with curiosity. Oh yeah, he could sense something was up.

“What the fuck just happened?” He squawked, fixated on the shattered wall and settling dust, “You bastards are filthy. I leave for what, ten minutes, and you both have a quick roll in the dirt?”

You rolled your eyes, gripping his talons as you replied, “No, just more of Nico’s property damage.”

Nico let out a snort at that, smothering her cigarette in a nearby ashtray upon finishing it off.

“Not like the place isn’t trashed anyway,” She stated, shrugging her shoulders, “Besides, we’re doin’ a service to the public by goin’ after Urizen, gotta make it to y’all as fast as possible.”

She had a point in there somewhere. But you got the feeling that she, too, had a flare for the over-dramatic.

The mechanic turned back into the van upon hearing Nero’s voice, probably to help the boy with his metal arms. You looked down when Shadow sat at your feet, mighty head resting against your leg and eyes staring at you expectantly. You were so very weak for this cat, they had your heart in those precious paws. Meat was immediately created, given to both the familiars. They had been working hard all day, fighting and working to help you and the poet. If you had enough strength, there were so many abilities of the Void you could use and utilize to help them. At your peak of power, you could summon things from the darkness to distract enemies, take on a shadow-like form and teleport. You hadn’t done that in a very, very long time. It took a long time of training and non-stop missions to reach point, and even then...you still died fighting with all that strength.

The thought made a twinge of pain pass through your head, hand instinctively coming up to rest on your temple. That certainly wasn’t pleasant.

“Are you alright?” V immediately noticed, taking a step closer to you. There was concern in his gaze, those full lips tilted into a frown.

You smiled, closing one eye as you addressed him, “I’m okay,” Not a lie, you technically were alright, “Just the hangover still knocking on my head a bit.” More...of a lie.

“Almost like _drinking_ was a bad idea,” Griffon huffed, snapping his beak by your ear and making you wince, “Got any regrets yet, girlie?”

You beamed, patting the side of his beak, “Nope.”

He snickered at that, making you laugh too. V smiled ruefully, leaning his cane on the wall and crossing his arms. The lazy posture and that gaze reminded you of a jaguar eyeing something to eat. Which was funny, considering Shadow--a big black cat itself--was sitting on your feet making lovey-eyes at you. You made sure to give them all the pats, focus bouncing all over the place. You wanted to focus on V, but Christ, you were gonna sweat. You had to practice some self control, some form of restraint. It was becoming very hard, which was bad considering now Griffon and Shadow were back--you hoped to god Nero hadn’t noticed the tension yet, which seemed likely considering how battle-focused he was. You appreciated that heavily, he also wasn’t the type to say anything either.

Speaking of, he finally exited the van, sporting some brand new devil breakers on his belt. You looked away from the poet, taking a deep breath as you met Nero’s focused eyes.

“Ready to go?” He asked, eyeing the group now that the demons were back, “Oh hey, the chicken came back!”

Griffon puffed up his feathers, narrowing his gaze at the demon hunter as he replied, “Eat shit and die, brat.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as you chided, “Can you ladies stop bickering for a few minutes at least?”

Nero, much to your shock, laughed. He turned his back, starting up the stairs with a passing wave at Nico as she took up a spot in the van window again. You did the same, walking in step with V as you blew another kiss to the mechanic. It was time to set off again, unfortunately, but you didn’t mind. But your foresight was already tickling the back of your mind, warnings prickling up even as you finally exited the subway. Blessedly. It was cloudy outside now, but the breeze was nice as it blew over your group, ascending up the subway stairs into a completely obliterated part of the city. This place got hit bad, buildings upturned and absolute chaos all around you. The closer you got to the tree, the worse the damage was; it looked like the apocalypse, absolutely trashed and not a human in sight. Only silence prevailed, dark and eerie and sending chills up your spine.

V came up next to you, looking at all the damage with a strange expression. In fact, there was no emotion on his face, no smile, no anger. But you thought you saw his jaw clench a bit, hand gripping the top of his cane ever so tighter. The destruction bothered him a lot, almost to the point of guilt. You could tell that pretty well of him. Something about the look in his eyes made you reach a hand down and gently squeeze his wrist--a reminder of your support. Sure enough, you could feel his pulse racing, outside not reflecting the obvious turmoil within. You were getting better at reading his emotions, and that pleased you quite a bit.

The poet flickered his gaze to you at the feeling of your hand, clenched jaw relaxing ever so slightly. He slid his hand down into yours, giving it the lightest of squeezes with those delicate fingers of his. You tried not to feel flustered, but your heart was pounding away in your chest with that dumb excitement you always felt. V looked so composed, so calm and collected--that wasn’t fair, was it? You wanted to do something he didn’t expect, wanted him flustered too, but you had no idea what would cause that short of grabbing his ass. Which you would not be doing. Instead, you waited until Nero walked forward, Griffon launching from your shoulders with a low chortle as he flew on ahead to scout a bit. Before V could pull away from you, you pulled his hand up to your lips.

You brushed your lips over his knuckles, making his eyes dart back over to you with a startled expression. You smiled softly, meeting his gaze unflinchingly as you gently kissed his hand. You wanted to distract him from the pain, the guilt, the bad feelings. He swallowed visibly, unfurling his fingers in your grasp slightly as time seemed to stop for you both. His hands truly were beautiful, you couldn’t help it. Mesmerizing, elegant. You kissed his index finger, surprised when he was responsive to _that._ Much to your absolute delight, that was what triggered a flustered reaction from the poet. You saw his cheeks flush a bit, breath catching with shock a second before his eyes darted to the side, unable to look at you. He put his other hand to his mouth, fingers twitching a bit when you let out a surprised gasp. You were sure he felt your breath on his fingertips.

“You’re blushing…!” You breathed, eyes alight with delight as he tried to look away more, “That’s so cute…!”

“... _Y/N._ ” His tone was mumbled around his hand, his fingers curled back around yours as he started forward, tugging you along before Nero noticed you lagging behind.

You were still beaming, absolute evil coursing through you now. Like you knew his _weakness._

“Do you like it when I touch your hands…?” You whispered to him, bumping his shoulder with your own, “Come on, V. A little _honesty_ won’t hurt.”

He said nothing, jaw twitching a bit as he continued forward, hand still over his mouth. Griffon flew back, blinking in shock when he saw V’s face, and you giggling like an idiot. He landed on V’s shoulders this time, an incredulous look in his eyes when the poet shook him off.

“What the fresh fuck did you do, Y/N?” The bird asked in shock, landing on you and shaking out his feathers, “Did you give him a quick blow job while I wasn’t looking? I’ve never seen him look that flustered.”

 _“Griffon._ ” V’s tone was low, full of warning, as he pointed his cane at the bird.

He held up his wings defensively, letting out an alarmed squawk now that he was on the sharp end of V’s weapon.

“Cool it, Shakespeare!” He exclaimed, narrowing his eyes and wearing that expression of mirth, “Just stating simple facts. Searching for answers. Sleuthing.”

You smiled innocently, still enjoying the look on V’s face. He was very embarrassed, which made a part of you feel bad. But that other part that had been cock teased by the poet all day was downright gleeful, triumphant even. You squeezed his fingers again, sliding your thumb over his palm gently. You had held his hand before, sure, but not like this. Fingers entwined, squeezing his digits--that was all pretty simple. Now you were trying to get a rise out of him, trailing your nail gently over his soft skin and gauging his reactions. He immediately jolted again, jerking you closer to him and making you release a surprised squeak.

He put his lips to your ear, saying in a breathy hiss, “If you can’t _behave_ yourself, little sparrow,” His breath felt very hot, lips brushing you just enough to make your own face feel warm--not that the implications in his tone weren’t enough, ”You’re going to make me do something that will get us _both_ in trouble with Nero.”

Thank nickname...it made your heart speed up considerably.

You shivered again, not caring if Griffon saw at this point--because the bird was definitely watching, like you two were some juicy soap opera. The jig was up, he was already well aware of your shenanigans and lust by that point. You and the poet were now pushing each other, bit by bit, in a contest to see who caved first. And you now had a fun card up your sleeve, knowing that he liked when you touched his hands was so much fun. You never noticed it before, because before you hadn’t been looking, things hadn’t been this charged. You felt incredibly bold now, oh so eager to see just how far you could tempt him. But he was right--Nero was still here, oblivious to your exchange, that or he was politely not acknowledging it.

Still, you smiled softly, letting go of V’s hand and blowing him a small kiss. You skipped forward to catch up with Nero, leaving the poet to contain himself a bit and get his bearings. In the meantime, you looked at your surroundings, taking in what seemed to be a destroyed opera house in the near distance. It looked like it was beautiful once, ornate, with carved gold on their pillars and beautiful hand painted art pieces. It was a shame, really--it seemed like this city had a lot of wonder to it before the whole incident, stories to tell and memories to be made.

“I bet it was beautiful here before,” You commented to Nero quietly, walking step by step with him. Concern was in your gaze, mixed with a hint of regret, “Wish I could have seen it.”

Nero grunted quietly in agreement, resting his blue eyes on you.

“Never been to Redgrave before?” He asked.

You shook your head, running your attention around the disaster again, “No. Not exactly from this area,” Not exactly from this dimension, more like, “I was...traveling here to see it when the calamity happened.”

Griffon flew up behind you, landing on your shoulders as you walked. You could see his gaze on you, a knowing look in those eyes as he more than likely recalled everything you spilled during your drinking frenzy. He knew damn well now that you hadn’t been here long before that, and that you had done no such traveling. But he, luckily, kept his mouth shut, starting to preen his feathers with a low sigh only you could hear. You appreciated his discretion.

“Damn shame,” Nero said with a low sigh, slowing as you approached the opera house’s remains. He pointed at it, a small smile passing over his space as he added, “My girl sang there once...Kyrie’s voice it beautiful, you would have loved it.”

The affection in his voice, that obvious adoration…every time he mentioned Kyrie, he went adorably soft.

You gave a soft smile, giggling a bit. Nero was a big, bad demon hunter. All rough and tumble, taunting and powerful in the face of battle. It was so interesting to see him settle down a bit, his expression losing that edge, taking on that remembering look as he thought of the person he loved. It was so precious, wholesome even. You didn’t even know Kyrie, but you were already damn well prepared to put yourself in harms way to preserve whatever it was they had.

Nero blinked at you when you still didn’t reply, raising his brow as he asked, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” You shook your head, giving him a sidelong smile, “It’s just cute. Seeing people who are as much in love as you is a rare treat, Nero. Don’t ever change that.”

He seemed surprised by your words, but you only got the back end of his expression as you turned to check on V again. The poet was catching up, skin tone normal and eyes meeting yours with that familiar, reserved smirk. Ohhh, someone had found his composure again--and much to V’s luck, since Nero was paying attention now, no more hand holding. Which meant you would be forced to behave.

You reasoned that this was a good thing--Your foresight was slowly growing louder, alerting you of some big, bad enemies up ahead. You snapped your fingers to get Nero’s attention once more, both men turning to look at you as you pointed at the ruins of the opera.

“Something is waiting for us,” You warned, summoning some tendrils just as a precaution, “So be ready, we’re going to have a fight on our hands.”

Nero simply smirked, cracking the knuckles on his left hand and starting forward with confidence. You sighed--well, at least you had tried to warn him. V seemed to sense your exasperation, giving you a wry smirk and squeezing your shoulder as he followed the eager demon hunter, signalling that you should too. That was probably the most wise course of action. Shadow materialized in front of your group, Griffon perching in his favorite spot on your shoulders. Both seemed ready for battle, Shadow’s pelt rippling and glowing marks traveling over the black surface of their body. Griffon was charged up too, the sensation of his energy crackling in your ear a bit. You didn’t mind at all.

You heard V let out a low hum, leaning over to whisper in your ear.

“Be on your toes,” His voice was a low purr, “And if you feel close to exerting, take shelter nearby. Griffon will know to grab you.”

You hesitated, hating the idea of leaving him behind in danger to save yourself. You also hated the idea of Griffon prioritizing you over him.

But still, you nodded.

V was not convinced, stopping you from following Nero and adding, “Swear to me, Y/N. No invocations, you prioritize yourself.”

“...Promise.” You mumbled, hating how it felt to do so. Choosing yourself over others felt so wrong, but you couldn’t argue with him when he used a tone like that. Those jade eyes fixed on your own gaze, lips parted and hand touching your cheek. You couldn’t deny him.

Your answer made that wry, cocky smile appear. As if he knew the effect he had over you. He turned away, letting his hand drop as he turned to follow Nero into the abandoned opera house. Fuck, you had a weird feeling about this, but what else could you do? Your foresight was signalling a much stronger enemy, but there was no convincing Nero not to rush headfirst into a fight. You followed behind V, summoning your tendrils as you all stepped over the threshold into the abandoned building. You had to climb over a pile of rubble, landing in what looked to be the main theater, or at least what was left of it.

The box seats were still somehow standing on high walls, mere inches from toppling over.It was beautiful at a time, the floor made of carved, intricate stone and ornate seating tossed here and there. It seemed clear of enemies, but you knew better. _Always_ knew better. Something was here, waiting for anyone to pass through and attack. The area, luckily, had plenty of areas for you to attach your tendrils to, making for safe movement based fighting for you. You could pepper down attacks at random to whatever appeared, using your daggers to hit and Void powers to fly away when needed. Now it was only a matter of what breed of nasty would appear to your cue.

_Right on time._

Almost sensing your thoughts, something big and mean looking hopped down from a high ledge, landing in front of your group. All three of you stopped, staring at this creature with varying expressions. It was humanoid in appearance, but most certainly a demon. Long, red glowing horns extended from a head without eyes, yet you knew it was staring at you. It looked like it was wearing armor, definitely a hefty sword-wielding demon man. The inside of its mouth was glowing blue, face expressionless as it face your group--he was certainly an intimidating looking creature, but nothing your group couldn’t handle, right? At least so you thought. Before you could open your mouth, four more came walking out on either side of the intimidating creature, only these had blue horns and looked lower level than the main baddie. They were wielding shields as well as swords, which was a bit of a concern in your opinion.

You glanced at Nero, and as expected he wore that cocky, battle-eager grin. He didn’t seemed bothered at all. You tilted your gaze to the poet, expecting him to be wearing that same swarmy, half smile you so adored. Ready to toss out a poetry quote, right? At least so you thought. The expression he wore...was not one you expected.

He looked… _angry._

Several emotions shifted across his face, varying in intensity as you desperately tried to get a read on him. You were sure you saw realization, then discomfort, fear, and then settling on a quiet rage you had never seen on his face before. And...familiarity. You couldn’t place it, nor understand it. You simply stared in shock, unable to speak as he stepped up beside Nero, grabbing his cane with one hand and pressing the other to his temple. You exchanged a look with Griffon, seeing that same knowing look in his eyes as he met your gaze. He shook his head at you, letting out a low, nervous trill as he launched from your shoulders and circled overhead.

“Ohhoo, nice,” Nero laughed, gesturing between all the creatures casually, like they were old friends, “Gettin’ the band back together, huh?”

You worriedly glanced at V, a chill going up your spine as he spoke. One of both fear, and extreme intrigue. Seeing him mad was both alarming and exciting.

“What evil lurks…” He said in a low growl, lifting his eyes up to the demons, “I must _destroy._ ”

Nero let out a low snort, pulling out his gun and smirking at the creatures.

“Thought that was the plan all along…!”

You opened your mouth to reply to them both, but the whole building lurched. You fell forward with an alarmed cry, catching yourself on one hand and knee as everything started shaking. The entire structure began to move and tremble, sliding forward with you and everyone else on it. You jerked your head to look behind you, seeing the opera stage detach from the building and leaving it in the distance, moving fast down an incline and still somehow staying in one piece. Completely absurd, absolutely insane. Wind whipped past you, some stray pieces of debris and rock whizzing past close enough to graze you. Yet Nero and V still faced forward, absolutely focused as the fight began.

Fuck.

You summoned your tendrils, trying to find your sense of balance as Nero shot forward, leveling his sword on the bigger of the creatures. V, opposite in fighting style, stepped back. He lifted his book of poems, reading from it as the wind pressure sent his hair waving wildly about his face. He still wore that cold expression, and you knew there would be no getting him to back down. So you provided support.

You wrapped your tendrils around him, whipping one out at a creature trying to get closer. It his his shield, sending him flying in Nero’s direction. The boy dodged easily, firing bullets into its head one after the other. Griffon was keeping low, desperately trying not to get blown away and keeping up with the fighting. How he managed, you’d never know. Still, you wrapped tendrils around him too, keeping him secure in the fighting area with all of you. He seemed grateful, providing backup fire for Shadow on the ground. The mighty cat was digging in its claws, roaring over the rush of sound and battle as it attacked with deadly spikes.

Another one of those creatures came for V, so you darted to his side, wrapping a tendril around its wrist and whipping more tendrils at its shield. It didn’t even flinch, taking the knockback and trying to swing its sword at you. V whipped his cane around, blocking the attack in one fell clang of metal. God, there was so much going on at that moment, you didn’t know what to keep track of. You were terrified of someone getting knocked off, but V needed to be protected. And yet, he was still keeping an eye on you, protecting you. It made your heart race, adrenaline pumping faster now as you sent of a flurry of tendrils, slicing the creature over and over and sending it rolling away.

“This is totally unsafe…!” You shouted at the two boys, who seemed pretty indifferent to the whole situation.

Nero let out a light laugh, hurling a demon away from him as he winked at you, “Don’t worry kid, you’ll get used to it!” He punched another creature with his metal arm, sending it flying away in an explosion of hot metal. One arm broken, it would seem.

You weren’t sure you _wanted_ to get used to it.

Another piece of debris came flying off the front of the opera stage. V grabbed you, yanking you to the ground just as it passed overhead. You glanced up in enough time to see a demon raising a sword over you, using your tendrils to send you and V sliding away from each other just as the metal clanged down on stone. Christ, that was way too close. You met V’s gaze with a concerned one of your own, worried that maneuvers like that would accidentally fling him off at some point. He let out a slow breath, rising to his feet and snapping his fingers. Alarm filled you, brain wondering how the hell Nightmare would land on the sliding death trap.

He didn’t have to, the portal opening to the side and sending him bowling over the group of demons. Nero let out a light laugh, hoping out of the way and narrowly avoiding being crushed. Jesus christ. The structure shuddered and groaned at the extra weight, more dirt and rocks pattering past. You felt a couple scratch your face, but the pain was irrelevant at that moment. You saw two of the demons get finished off by Nero, but that big one was heading toward V.

Both boys looked at it, Nero launching himself with his devil breaker to slam it face first into the ground. Nightmare sent a line of laser behind him, targeting the remaining demons with vigor and readying them for death. V shot past you, cane in hand. He swung around, slamming it into the chest of one staggering demon, then whipped it around to impale it in the head of the other. The look on his face concerned you, no longer the level-headed look of the poet you’d seen all week. He looked...displeased, to say the least. Like there was a foul taste in his mouth. Something about this particular breed of demon was not settling well with him, and you wished you knew why.

Before you could give it any real though, Nero began finishing off the final creature.

As he stabbed his sword into the demon’s chest, the structure around you began to shudder more, rumbling filling the air as you jerked your gaze up. You could see a cliffs edge nearing at high speeds up ahead, just as the opera stage began to crumble apart from the stress of sliding down such a steep incline. You lost your balance, landing hard on your side even as your tendrils whipped out in a flurry of activity. Mind drawn to several places at once. V, reaching toward you and Griffon latching onto him, Nero looking up from the demon’s corpse. You latched onto them both, using the tendrils to launch you group up and back out of the stage, onto the cliff just as it went crashing down below.

You landed on your feet, falling back with a low huff of air as V came to a stumbling halt beside you, and Nero in front of you. Nightmare had returned to his master’s hair again, and Griffon and Shadow had apparently returned as well.

And you? You took some time to catch your breath.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long, its a long one <3 NSFW warning

_Chapter 13_

 

You laid yourself back, staring at the cloudy sky as all the breath left your lungs.

Adrenaline was still pumping through your veins, blood roaring in your ears. You had made it safely from the sliding Opera house of death, both boys unscathed and staring down at the dark hole into the abyss. You could have easily fallen down there, had it not been for some quick thinking on everyone’s part. Today had been way too exciting in your opinion. Near death experiences aren’t fun, nor is fighting all the time. On the plus side, you had been stretching your magic muscles a bit more so to speak--you still hadn’t extended, which was definitely a good thing. You sat up, air leaving your lungs in a low huff as you shook off your nerves a bit.

Nero was brushing off some dirt and pebbles, vigorously shaking out his hood. You almost laughed when a handful of what equated to gravel bounced out onto the cliff-side. Christ, maybe Nero needed a shower more than you did--he was smeared with demon blood on one side of his head, dirt coating his knees. You smiled ruefully, leaning your elbows on your thighs and holding up your head. You turned your attention to V next, just to make sure he was alright too. But...you were surprised to see him standing completely still, a far-away look in his eyes as he gazed around at his surroundings. What was he seeing? You too looked into the distance, instantly spotting a broken down home on a further cliff-side, surrounded by several other pieces of broken earth. That was what the poet was so focused on, for what reason you didn’t know.

Still, you pulled yourself to your feet using the tendrils, brushing off the dirt. You took a few steps toward him, worry filling him as he continued to stare out at that house--there was a strange look on his face, like a bitterness mixed with remembrance. You opened your mouth, wanting to say something but Nero beat you too it.

“Took us long enough to get here,” He chuckled, rolling his shoulders a bit as he shot a look at the poet, “What, getting tired already?”

The poet didn’t reply right away, only furthering your worry. You saw him tilt his head, an expression of reminiscing passing over his face as he continued looking out at the destruction, as if he hadn’t even heard Nero.

“I just remembered something,” His voice was low, lilting even, when he finally replied, “This town was attacked...once before.”

He lifted his hand as he spoke, curling his fingers idly when he said “once before”. You and Nero exchanged a short look, both of you looking over at the poet again when he took a few steps forward, still surveying the surroundings with his lips parted lightly.

“...Is that so?” Nero said, eyeing the goth with a concern similar to yours. V rarely opened up about anything, so this was definitely new from him.

V let out a slow breath, tilting his gaze over to the white haired boy.

“I was here…” V’s voice was so soft, eyes gliding to the ground as he took a few more steps forward, “I can still see it.”

You and Nero exchanged another glance, taking a couple steps toward the musing goth. He seemed to neither notice you nor Nero, crouching down next to what looked to be a green, plastic rocking horse on a spring. A playground toy, you realized. It was a bit rusted, the paint smudged and scratched from passing storms and exposure to the elements. It made a memory pass through your head, the ghost of one at least--and it hurt. You had the sense that you had fallen off of one of those horse’s as a child, and your mother never helped you--your mother?

_Stop that._

A twinge of pain snapped through your head as your body tried to recall what happened. You put the heel of your palm to your temple, wincing a bit as you hesitated to approach the poet.

“In fact,” He continued on, lightly touching the horse with those gentle fingers of his, “I was playing right here.”

He looked up again, lifting that silver cane and using it to point.

“That was the house.” Wind blew over your group, sending a light cloud of dust blowing past.

You turned your eyes, seeing that house from before that he had been gazing at. It looked ominous now, full of memories you doubted you understood. V’s words from a few days ago seemed darker now, his admission of his mother’s death now seeming very obvious when compared to this event. You shivered, a sense of foreboding traveling up your spine--christ, there was something so upsetting about an abandoned, broken home. Or an abandoned playground toy for that matter. Children had played on it, made moments on it, smiled and laughed as they tilted back and forth. Even V, your favorite poetry loving goth, had been a child once here. Now...it was just passing remnants of a happier time.

And something about that bothered you.

Nero seemed bothered too, staring at the house in the distance with a furrowed brow. V rose to his feet, silence persisting a few more moments before he broke it.

“This is where we part ways,” He said, wearing that light smirk again and staring at Nero from under his lashes, “You go ahead.”

That made you frown, hands gripping the bottom of your blouse as you bit back a bubbling arguement. You didn’t like the idea of Nero going up the Qliphoth by himself, especially considering Nico told you about the first time he faced Urizen. Everyone had gotten their asses kicked. Nero included. Then on the other hand, you knew V was still focused on the devil sword Sparda, it showed on his face. You didn’t like arguing with him on these things, hoping that V knew best in this instance.

Nero sighed, tilting his head and shrugging as he replied to the poet, “You’re gonna miss all the fun.”

V let out a low hum, tapping his cane on the ground as he replied, “No...I must seek out the Devil Sword Sparda.”

His words confirmed your thoughts, unease filling you at his mentioning of the sword. You didn’t understand it, but he was so incredibly focused on it.

“What?!” Nero’s expression shifted to shock, realization passing over him at the name, “Yeah, I don’t think that’s such a good idea--trust me.”

V smirked a bit, walking past the boy and patting him on the shoulder, “You’re not the only one who thinks so,” He gripped his cane tighter, smirk taking on a bitter edge as he added, “But to win this fight, we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

An uneasy feeling settled on you, feet quickly moving to catch up with V as you weighed his words. You had expressed nothing on the sword yet, so who was he referring to? Probably Malphas, the three headed woman from earlier. She seemed very intent on no one finding the sword again, though there was no telling if the horseman had found it yet or not. You hoped your delay hadn’t made things too late. Regardless, you tried to shake off the guilt, sparing Nero a parting glance as you began walking away. He looked troubled, and that bothered you a lot. There was a heavy part of you that wished he wouldn’t have to travel up the Qliphoth alone--he was still a kid, in a way. Hot-headed and full of bravado.

You tossed him a granola bar as you passed--he caught it without even looking.

“Be safe, Nero!” You said firmly, pointing a finger at him, “Don’t do anything stupid and listen to your gut.”

He smirked, giving you a half smile and a two finger salute.

“Always.”

You nodded, quickly following behind V on the hill. Unhappiness was still in your expression, the image of the green, fading horse unable to shake from your mind. It held such a loneliness in it that bothered you, it was...tragic, in a way. If the town had been attacked before, that meant children had most certainly died--and V had lost his mother there, lost his childhood there.

It made you ache terribly, a lot of who he was apparent to you now that you saw where the trauma originated. No wonder he was so vulnerable at times; you doubted he was given the chance to have a normal childhood after a demon attack, and that really wasn’t fair. Not that life ever was. That sorrow refused to leave you, feet walking on their own and eyes downcast. All the teasing from earlier was so far away now, energy settling to a dull roar as you mind bounced between each worry it had.

Once you and V reached the top of the incline, you were still in silence, sparing a glance back at Nero still down on the cliff-side. You blinked, immediately seeing Nico’s van going speeding for him down that hill, not showing any sign of stopping. Oh _no_ \--you got the sudden urgent sensation that Nero was going to be knocked into the abyss, which was definitely growing. You activated your tendrils, ready to spring over and save Nero as he turned, expression calm and watching as Nico came skidding down to him. But V stuck out his cane, grabbing you by the shoulder before you could rush down and help.

“Wait.” He advised, watching the spectacle out of the corner of his eye.

You jerked your gaze back, watching as Nico swerved, the van sliding to a hard stop inches from Nero’s face. Less, probably a mere inch, almost touching his nose. All the breath left your lungs in an exasperated sigh, hand clutching your chest. Well, you were certainly glad you didn’t just watch your friend almost die. You deactivated your energy, feeling strung out mentally.  Mind you, exertion hadn’t crept up on you quite yet, but mentally you felt heavy, like today was more than you could chew. First the Opera house ride down the hill, and then seeing the tragedy V had suffered as a child. You were naturally empathetic as a person, you felt things heavily for those you cared about and shared in their sorrows. And V’s sorrows...hurt.

V seemed satisfied that Nero was safe, turning away and beginning his walk further into the ruins. You shook yourself a a bit, following after him and trying to hide the dejection you felt in regards to the whole situation. You didn’t know how much longer you would be traveling with the poet for the day, especially considering it was already in the afternoon. After all the fighting before, the exhilaration, the...teasing. Maybe stopping to catch your breath was best, but staying overnight...You doubted you and the poet could behave yourselves. Which was bad, you didn’t want to distract him too much from his mission. And that feeling...was it just simple lust? What if after getting it out of your systems he didn’t want you with him anymore?

Your anxiety grew, louder and louder as you followed behind V. He hadn’t summoned Griffon back, or Shadow, which might have helped your nerves. Anything to distract you from this feeling...anything. You doubted yourself, you ached for him, and you were strung out. What could you even say?

“....Y/N?” V’s voice snapped you out of your stupor, making you halt in place when you realized you had walked ahead of him.

You turned, blinking slightly as wind blew over you both. He was standing still, concern written on that lovely face as he regarded you--it looked like he had called your name a few times now, but you hadn’t been paying attention, lost in your own little world. You looked around, realizing that you were just outside what seemed to be a broken town--houses and shattered streets were within walking distance, a small cathedral still standing with windows intact. You blinked, face flushing a bit as you looked back at him. You had really been spacing, hadn’t you? The thought that V had noticed you were upset made you feel bad, like you were forcing your burdens on him.

“Are you alright?” V asked softly, taking a few steps toward you. He tilted up your chin with his cane, brushing some of your hair away from your face when the wind sent it tossing, “You’ve been quiet since we left Nero.”

You blinked, tilting your gaze away and offering him a sad smile, holding his hand to your cheek. That made him suck in a breath, fingers stroking your skin with such a tenderness it made your head spin.

“I’m sorry,” You murmured, voice still somehow loud enough for him to hear over the wind whistling through the shattered cliff sides, “Please don’t worry about me.”

V let out a low hum, a half smile curling his lips as he clicked his tongue, “That will never happen,” he said in his low purr, like he was trying to coax the truth from you, “Seeing you frown makes me ache terrible, my little sparrow.”

That nickname again--it made your heart flutter like the bird itself was caged in your chest. And the way he said it, so gentle, that voice smooth like warm honey. And it wasn’t just that,   _“my_ sparrow” he had said--possessive, claiming you as his own. It sounded so intimate, so genuine and romantic. You swallowed, trying to will your racing pulse to slow.

“I know,” You mumbled, “I just...I ache too, knowing that something that terrible happened to you. I can’t get it out of my head, the sight of your broken house, the playground…”

V paused, a confused expression on his face as he regarded you.

“That is what is distracting you? You’re distraught,” He whispered in that breathy tone, like he was unable to comprehend what you were feeling at that moment, “Because...of my pain?”

You nodded, closing your eyes and listening to the sound of a few buildings crumbling in the distance. You didn’t know what to say, it seemed so...strange. You didn’t even remember your own past, at least not all of it. You recalled some dimensions, some people, some missions. The things that hadn’t broken you, what you were allowed to keep after leaving. But none of them had been like this, the level of suffering V had been through. But his tragedy was like a physical pain, stabbing you in your chest--why couldn’t that be the thing you were allowed to fix? To go back and save a child from breaking, to keep a family intact...You were always sent to these places after the fact, and you knew you had no right to think some things. Pain had no rhyme or reason, and it was not your place to question that.

“I’m sorry,” You said again, taking on a guilt that wasn’t yours, “I just wish...you didn’t have to suffer. It isn’t fair, that you had to lose someone. That you lost your childhood, that you grew up with...no one. No one deserves to be alone, to struggle like that.”

_It isn’t fair that some people carry all the suffering._

“The thought of it makes me want to--” You began to whimper, eyes burning with unshed tears, when suddenly you felt yourself being yanked forward. V’s hands cupped your cheeks, his cane clattering to the ground as he pulled you against him, body to body, his head bent to meet yours. Any words were frozen in your throat, left hanging from your tongue as you met those jade eyes, the ones you so adored. Time seemed to stop for a moment, you registering so many things at once. His breath, hot on your lips, the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. And the breeze, sending your hair blowing to the side as V finally, blessedly, kissed you.

_Oh._

V’s lips brushed yours, so gentle in soft for a second you were sure you were dreaming. Your eyes blinked open for a moment, lips parting in a soft gasp. His jade orbs were closed, black lashes resting on pale, silken skin. You forgot how to breathe for a brief moment, forgot how to think. This was everything. _This was everything_. Your own lashes fluttered shut, leaning into his touch with the most relieved feeling you had experienced in your whole life. So gentle. Testing, curious, exploring. V kissed you with a hesitation, morphing into a gentle eagerness as he cupped your cheeks, thumbs stroking your skin and breaths coming short and light. He kissed you like he was tasting you, memorizing you, like the pages of a book. It made your knees so weak. You almost collapsed, hands clutching at the collar of his vest as you eagerly kissed him back.

You could feel his heart racing, pounding under your hands. Was this your first kiss? Was it his? Didn’t feel like it, but it might as well be considered so. It was such a wonderful thing, a gentle thing. Like a whisper, shared between you without talking. In that moment, V was speaking to you, and you were listening--a language all in itself. The background around you faded into white noise, the tragedy, the damage, the destruction all becoming so quiet as you shared that feeling with him. And what a feeling it was, to be just two people exploring emotions, exploring each other. You had been searching for this sensation, at least it felt like to you, the sense that you could share a part of yourself with someone without fear. Trusting. It was freeing, like energy passing through your fingertips and through every part of your skin he touched. You never wanted it to end, the moment feeling so long and too short.

But it had to end at some point.

V finally pulled away, lingering, his soft breaths brushing your moistened lips. You blinked your eyes open, feeling the slight burn of tears still there.  A few leaked out, pooling in your eyes before sliding onto your lashes. You felt so much, almost to the point of it being _too_ much. The ache, the need, it was delicious now. Wanted. Both sated and fueled, like matches to gasoline. But you didn’t feel burned, despite how hot your body felt in that moment. V’s expression was just...so lovely. His lips were parted, eyes slowly opening to stare at you with wonder and absolute adoration. And his high cheekbones, adorably dusted with pink, flushed with emotion. Christ, no one had looked at you like that before. You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching up, stroking his lower lip with your thumb just as he wiped a few of those tears from your eyes.

He was the first to speak, voice breathy and soft.

“I fear Griffon may be correct in his...assumptions,” He whispered, a bit of that coy smile tilting his lips as he leaned his forehead to yours, “You and I...we truly cannot behave, can we?”

You bit your lip, cheeks feeling overly warm as you closed your eyes again.

“I refuse to admit Griffon is right about anything,” You mumbled, tracing a finger down what you knew to be Griffon’s side of the tattoos. They writhed, almost like the bird knew you were talking about him, “We’d never hear the end of it.”

V chuckled, the rich, warm sound so pleasant. Like you could feel it in your chest.

“Agreed,” He hummed, pulling back so he could look at you, “Though I don’t think you and I can hide a thing, little sparrow.”

He was so right. That sensation was back, like he was a lit match and you were gasoline. Both of you being needy, affection starved human beings was definitely bad for both of you. Or good. You weren’t sure.

You paused, biting your lip again as you stroked his hands on your cheeks, “I think...we should find a place to rest,” You whispered, nervousness and anticipation curling in your gut. There were so many implications, so many unspoken promises in the air, “I don’t suppose you can keep them contained all day?”

V let out a low sound, tilting his head a bit, “Not if I cannot focus...if they want out badly enough they make themselves known.”

Oh dear. That didn’t bode well.

You let out a light laugh, taking a step back from him and smiling ruefully, “V...what is going on with us? How did this happen?”

V paused visibly, eyeing you with that thinking look you were sure mimicked your own. He let out a slow breath, sitting on a nearby piece of rubble and leaning his head on his cane. Christ, every time he did that you wanted to scold him--it looked so bad for his posture. Regardless, he sat there for a moment, pondering, that brow adorably furrowed and full lips parted. It looked like he hadn’t really considered the “why” aspect of everything until then, probably going with the flow you were providing. Both of you had been bouncing off each other’s eagerness, your nonchalance in regards to all that was happening. You sat down next to him, instinctively feeling one of your hands reach for his, and he was there to take it. There it was again, like instinct. It felt right, necessary.

It only seemed to confirm some things, his fingers squeezing yours as he sighed.

“We...are the same, you and I,” He murmured, eyes scanning the line of the horizon, “Both lacking in some way or another. We just...fill in the spaces.”

You let out a low hum, rubbing the toe of your boot into the dirt a bit.

“You’re right. But...I think we both have been lonely,” You murmured, “For a long time. But...it’s not just that, I’m sure you can tell too. Something drew me to you since day one, but I can’t place my finger on what. The Deity’s power has ways of letting me know I’m on the right path, so I never question it when I feel it.”

V let out a slow breath, tilting those jade eyes to meet yours. You could see yourself reflected in his gaze, and the way he looked at you...it made your heart thud painfully fast.

“There was definitely something about you early on...You and you alone have coaxed me into facing emotions I would have otherwise ignored,” His tone was soft, like a whisper caressing your ears, “Even this discussion, I did not expect to be having. And yet...It does not bother me.”

“I’m glad,” You smiled, squeezing his hand lightly, “It’s healthy to feel emotions, and it’s healthy to acknowledge them.”

V let out a low chuckle, the sound so very warm, “Your kindness is a rare treat, Y/N,” He lifted your hand to his lips, brushing a kiss over you knuckles, “This feels correct, does it not?”

You nodded, head spinning a bit as you breathed, “It feels very right.”

The poet nodded, looking at you from underneath his lashes.

“Then I see no reason why we should stop,” His tone was decided, thoughtful. He gripped the head on his cane, thumb tracing circles on the cool metal, “Maybe getting some of this out of our system will ease the...tension, so to speak. But I only wish for what you also desire--there is no exploration without you consenting to it.”

You flushed, the poet way he worded it very...you couldn’t even describe it. You knew what he was implying, what he meant, and the implications that all held. You closed your eyes, trying to recall any prior romance, or experiences with romance, but...it as blank. Not even ghosting memories. Why was that? Surely you had felt attracted to someone as a human, or found someone in any of the places you had traveled before. You definitely knew how sex worked, what it felt like, but...there was a lapse, an absence in memory that made your head twinge in pain. You resisted the urge to touch your temple again, letting out a slow breath as you thought over the poet’s words. There was no harm in it, was there? Indulging, exploring, tasting. Just for a night, just to get it out of your systems.

“You already know what it is I want.” You murmured simply, unable to look him in the eyes as your cheeks flushed a bit.

You heard him scoot closer, lips brushing your ear as he replied in a low hum, “Do I? Indulge me, little sparrow. Speak the words I want to hear.”

Fuck, you were in over your head here.

“I...want you,” You replied, meeting his gaze unflinchingly as you lifted his hand, just like he had did with yours. You kissed his knuckles, enjoying the way his breath caught when you did so, “I’ve always been honest with my feelings...and a little exploration will do us good.”

V nodded, seeming pretty satisfying all things considered. He leaned forward again, thumb sliding along your jaw as he tilted your head. You didn’t think twice, brushing your lips to his softly, eyes closed and heart leaping in your chest. A shorter kiss this time, like you were sealing a deal--a promise. One that made your body heat, anticipation and nervousness curling in your gut. You just hoped that you didn’t disappoint him, or that he didn’t lose interest once your curiosities were sated. If anything...maybe that was best, maybe it was best to sate the desire and stop what would have hurt you otherwise. Before you got too close, before you felt too much to let go.

V leaned away, that wry half smile on his lips as he stood, holding a hand out to you and griping the cane with his other one. You shook off your thoughts, feeling no flare of Foresight that was warning you off from this chosen path. If anything, there was a prickle of energy that told you to keep going, to do what you wanted--there were no repercussions with this, it would seem. You took V’s hand, letting him pull you up from the debris and brushing yourself off, despite there not being any real dirt on you. Almost immediately, V’s tattoos rippled, the forms of Griffon and Shadow beginning to form from him. You were happy to see them, but you still let out a low sigh, exchanging a knowing glance with the poet and releasing his hand. Not like it made any difference, there was no way the familiars didn’t know by now. Shadow was definitely the favored companion in that regard, considering they never really acknowledged it.

Griffon shook out his feathers, letting out a light trill as he landed on your shoulders, his familiar weight making you smile a bit.

“What a fucking bad time _that_ was,” He squawked in annoyance, probably in regards to the sliding Opera house you were long departed from, “Little too dangerous in my opinion. But don’t get me wrong! It was definitely _stylish_. Risky. Bold and brash.”

You laughed lightly, giving his talons a squeeze, “Good to see you too, bird. Feeling rested?”

He snapped his beak by your ear while Shadow yawned, mighty cat stretching by V’s feet and blinking at you.

“Got a nice little snooze in, yeah,” Griffon replied, eyeing you with those piercing gold eyes, “What about you, toots? Hurtin’ yet? Exertin’ yet? You’re lookin’ a little pink around the edges.”

There was a hint of amusement in his tone, teasing mingled with genuine concern. You definitely appreciated it, giving his head a little stroke while he trilled happily.

“I’m feeling alright,” You replied, tone nonchalant as you glanced at V with an expression that was anything but, “The excitement of the ride down the hill hasn’t left me.”

V’s lips twitched, like he was fighting grinning. He tapped his cane on the ground, small smirk playing on the edges of his mouth as he started forward, heading toward what looked to be that small chunk of town in the distance. You smiled too, seeing Griffon look between the two of you a few times, almost comically. Suspicion was growing on his face, eyes narrowing as he slowly turned to look at you. Yeah, he was no idiot. You and V lacked any subtlety, and the bird could read the nonexistent room very well. Shadow seemed to sense something was up as well, looking up at you with a low, cat-like chirp before following after the poet. Its tail was flicking back and forth, a little trot in their step. In your opinion, the cat seemed pleased, though it would never be able to say it.

Griffon lowered his head, putting it right next to yours and clearing his throat a bit.

“Hey, uh, toots?” He whispered as you slowly followed behind the poet, giving you and the bird some room to talk, “Am I _missin’_ something here? Anythin’ you wanna tell me?”

You smiled, giving his head another pat.

“Griffon,” You said in a low tone, just for him to hear, “Can I ask you a favor?”

He blinked in surprise, feathers ruffling a bit at the unexpected question.

“Depends,” He said slowly, tail feathers twitching a bit as he regarded you with wariness, “What favor, girlie?”

So suspicious! That made you smile wider, amusement coursing through you as you leaned your head against his. Griffon was a very good friend, at least in your opinion. You were happy you met him, happy you both had moved past the rocky start. His banter and humor was definitely a good thing to have in your life, and you knew he would support you where it was needed. Demon or not, he was fairly good at his core, at least to the people he cared about.

“When V summons you back tonight, can you stay put until he releases you again?” You asked softly, eyes staring at Griffon pleadingly, “Please? For me?”

He paused visibly, his beak popping open in a comical expression as what you said really absorbed in his birdie brain. You stared back innocently, so innocent a halo should have appeared. Surely you were sporting angel wings.

“My my _my_ …” Griffon hissed, tone dripping with teasing and glee. He tilted his head, feathers rippling as he narrowed those gold eyes on you, “Y/N, you naughty _girl._ Are you going to fuck our dearest poet? Just after four days? You’re breaking some records here, not saying I don’t approve. Shakespeare can use a good lay to loosen up a bit. Although...I didn’t anticipate you being so _bold._ ”

You flushed a bit more at that, tapping your fingers on his talons and glancing ahead at V. He was eyeing the approaching homes, seeming to try and decide which was the safest to rest in for the night.

“Come on, Griffon,” You whispered, eyes staring at him pleadingly, “You know it isn’t all like that.”

He let out a low chortle at your hurt tone, brushing your cheek with his beak.

“Is it? I’m not so sure.” He hummed, seeming downright smug.

_“Griffon.”_

“Alright alright,” He snickered more at your displeased expression, shaking out his feathers again and eyeing the poet with something akin to fondness, “I’ll hand it to ya, toots. I have never seen Shakespeare this head over heels, happy as a fucking clam. You two have spent every waking moment with each other for four days, so I’ll let it slide. You’ve got shit going on I can’t understand, so I’m not gonna question it.”

You smiled again at that, expression softening considerably, “Awww is that your way of saying you support us?”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” Griffon huffed, looking away with a prideful tilt of his beak, “I support your need to fuck. So I’ll let you lovebirds have some alone time this evening. Free of charge.”

That made you laugh, tilting your head to peck a kiss to his beak.

“Thank you, Griffon,” You hummed, giving him a sweet smile, “You really are the best wingman.”

He cleared his throat again, letting out a low huff at your actions. But there was a happy gleam in his eyes, feathers puffed out proudly as he replied, “Yeah yeah. Save the smoochin’ for the poet, girlie.”

You laughed again, quickening your step to catch up with the man in question, and Shadow. The sky was growing darker, clouds clearing finally and leaving the sky in a pinkish, orange hue. Like an oil painting, beauty above the chaos. It was growing cooler out too, breeze blowing at your backs now--it made the air cleaner, free of the stench the Qliphoth tree sent on the breeze. You had traveled far enough that the smell of pollen and burning homes was stifled by the air, which was definitely a good thing in your opinion. This town was also lacking in husks, seemingly abandoned long ago--humanity hadn’t touched this place in years, the buildings achingly lonely and dark. You tried not to focus on it, instead keeping your focus on V.

He was eyeing the standing cathedral, stopping in place as he examined the windows and doors. Everything was somehow still intact, though you were willing to bet it would be dusty inside. Still, V started forward, stepping around some debris before walking up the steps to the church. You followed behind, breath catching at the artful stained glass, reflecting the setting sun. What a beautiful building, albeit smaller than some of the other religious areas you had been it. It was ironic, in a way. Especially considering what you and the poet were planning.  The very thought made your heart speed up, that caged bird back at it again it would seem.

V pushed on the two double doors, cane in one hand. They creaked open loudly,  air blowing past you into the open space. You peered inside, breath catching at what you saw. The stained glass above the doors painted the marble floors with glittering patterns, only slightly faded by dirt and weathering. A few remaining pews were tossed here and there, but the building was intact. You wondered why, considering it was a demon attack that had came for this village. You figured the demons would have trashed a holy place at first chance, but...they didn’t. In fact, the room just looked upturned, like someone had been searching for something before they left.

“Boy it sure is dusty,” Griffon commented, gusting wings sending up a cloud of the stuff as he flew around the space, “Needs a cleaning.”

V let out a low hum, waving a hand in his face as he approached the side windows of the cathedral. He examined them, letting out a pleased sound when he was able to push them open, letting more fresh air inside. You coughed a bit, walking past Griffon to examine the space a bit. The altar was still intact, candles surrounding the space only half melted. Someone had left a rosary behind, a few of the beads scattered on the floor beneath. You touched it gently, wincing when the power of the Void reacted negatively to the sensation. It did not like other gods, not one bit.

You stepped up to the altar, summoning a vial of whale oil in one hand as you regarded the space. The Deity was pleased whenever you converted a house of worship to one of his own, a simple process you didn’t mind doing. Not like anyone would be coming here any time soon to praise God anyway, and the Deity’s power was meant for in between spaces, those that are forgotten and desolate. You dipped your finger in the whale oil, tracing a pattern of His symbol onto the smooth surface. The markings began to glow, a low whispering of the Void filling your ears as the substance absorbed and faded away. You quickly looked up when every cross on the walls suddenly fell, clattering to the ground with loud clanging. V turned his head, looking at the objects before turning his gaze to you.

Surely he felt that shift in the air.

“Y/N?” His tone was questioning.

You shook your head, murmuring a low phrase of worship to your own Deity, sealing the Cathedral in his name. The symbols burned into the altar’s surface, where they would stay forever. No spell would remove it or change it. The area was now protected in your Deity’s name, a safe space for you and the poet to rest for the night. You wouldn’t have been able to perform such an incantation before, considering that the cathedral was already on sacred grounds. The Deity enjoyed places both touched by worship and tragedy, so it was perfect. Having another God in place made it so easy.

“Don’t put those back up,” You warned V when he gripped a cross, eyeing it with a bemused expression, “I just made this Cathedral a place of worship for my deity, which means that symbols for other Gods aren’t welcome anymore.”

“...Fascinating.” V murmured in reply, giving you a wry smirk as he set it back down again.

You hopped down from the altar, absorbing the vial of whale oil again before looking around. It looked like there was a back area of the Cathedral meant as a sitting area or preparation area, so you walked over, pushing the half opened door open completely. Much to your surprise, it was more so a small shelter area--There were cots in there, several upturned, and various supplies filling the room. You strolled in, gazing around and trying to figure out what this room was used for. Just for emergencies, you imagined. There was a storm cellar, doors of it left hanging open. You were about to go down and look in it when the prickling sensation of your foresight sent a twinge through your chest. A warning, one that made you stop in place.

_Do not go down there. You won’t like what you see._

You felt your heart pound, staring at the darkness below with a heavy sense of foreboding. You could guess what was down there, and your body was right. You didn’t want to see. So you used your tendrils to close the wooden doors, the sound of them heavily hitting the floor echoing in the space. You sighed, feeling a bit better now that the cellar was closed off. Everything in the room looked, blessedly, clean and with minimal dust. There was some food too, in crates. You bet the cellar had more, but there was no going down there.

You settled on dragging a couple cots to the main area of the church, wanting a lot of distance between you and those wooden doors. When you entered the room, the pews were moved to the side, most of the dust cleared by Griffon’s gusting wings. V glanced at you, sitting down on one of them until he saw you tugging the beds in. He stood, coming over to help lay them down on the floor. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable place you had slept, but it was certainly something.

Griffon let out a low chortle, knowing eyes sweeping over you as he circled the room. He landed on the alter, peering at the markings you had left with curious trilling. Though he said nothing.

“Do me favor,” You said quietly to V, laying out a sheet and some pillows on the makeshift bed, “There’s a cellar in the other room...don’t look inside.”

V blinked, tipping his head a bit at your warning tone, “What did you see?”

You sighed, shaking your head and sitting down on the bed. All that time spent preparing the room for rest had let the sky get darker, sun setting on the horizon. It calmed your nerves a bit.

“Nothing. But...I got a feeling,” You didn’t have to explain to him that your feelings should be heeded, “Nothing dangerous. Just...upsetting. I think when the village was attacked, this church was their shelter and...they went down there.”

Your tone implied enough. You didn’t have to elaborate. You didn’t have to tell him none of the villagers made it back out.

V’s breath caught, understanding flashing in his eyes for a brief moment as he rested a hand on your shoulder. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes and listening to his slow breaths. His quiet show of support was nice, needed. An anchor when the bad sensations threatened to overwhelm you--he was still here, so very warm and inviting to you. He was something to focus on, a way to lose yourself.

You swallowed, trying to compose yourself a bit as you summoned your tendrils, using them to light the candles on the altar for some light. Fresh air was still blowing in from the windows, cool and shockingly free of humidity despite the day’s previous rain. All the day’s tension, the teasing, the aching...it all seemed so quiet now, a personal moment being shared in the space. You didn’t know what to say, what to do...you just wanted to sit with him for a moment, catching your breathes and silently speaking to each other. You wrapped your tendrils around him, sending a small jolt of relieving energy, knowing how easily he fatigued he could get in most instances. He seemed to welcome it, letting out a slow breath and leaning his face against your back. The sensation made you shiver, eyes opening again.

You looked up at Griffon, seeing his unusually serious expression in the dim light. He met your gaze, inclining his head a bit as he easily read the situation. For all his teasing, he knew you. And he knew V. What was going on was beyond him, and you knew the bird respected that, and deep down he wanted V to be happy. So he looked at Shadow, jerking his beak toward V with a firm implication behind it. The cat blinked, yawning with those mighty jaws before rising to its feet. It wasn’t stupid either, Shadow got the message right away. You appreciated their kindness, offering both soft smiles as Griffon winked, disappearing back into dust and absorbing back into the poet.

V let out a low hum, tone a bit amused as he said, “Well now...That I did not expect.”

“Oh?” You  murmured, beginning to unlace your boots with hasty fingers.

Shockingly, V stopped you. He turned your body to face him, sitting with one knee propped up and the other tilted to the side. He looked so relaxed, confident, almost ethereal in the flickering candle light.

“Allow me.” He murmured, deft fingers beginning to pluck at your laces, slowly and carefully. Something about it made your heart race faster, the action somehow very intimate.

“What...did you not expect…?” You breathed, trying to calm your pounding pulse as he tugged off one boot, placing it carefully nearby. He started on the other foot, eyes so focused in the dark. That tiny smirk playing with his lips.

“For Griffon to go quietly,” He answered, using that warm honey tone on you, pulling that second boot off with no resistance, “I expected him to make a fuss about it.”

You pulled your feet back to you, toes curling a bit now that fresh air was blowing through your thigh highs. V’s gaze tilted up to meet yours, expression soft and sensual. So beautiful, gentle, and...nervous. You could see it there, behind all the usual emotion he wore--he was nervous, unsure, like he didn’t know how to proceed. It occurred to you that maybe V knew very little about any physical touching, romance, sex. Living the life he had, it would make sense that he knew even less than you, border-lining on have no experience at all. You knew you could handle yourself, despite having no prior solid memories of doing this before. There was a confidence in your actions.

You moved closer to him, watching how his expression shifted to intrigue, anticipation. You slid your hands up to his vest, tugging on the threads holding it as you rose up a bit, sitting on your feet. It looked like he had already removed his sandals at some point, thank god. It left you free to focus on his top, unwinding the materials, pulling the garment open until it dropped from his shoulders, pooling around his arms and waist. Christ, there was something beautiful about that. V let you do so, eyes watching you with quiet intensity as you moved your hands over his chest, gently tracing his tattoos. They writhed a bit, like they sensed your probing touches. He really was a marvel, so heart-achingly lovely. Skinny, but there was some muscles there. You traced his collar bones, feeling him shiver slightly under the gentle exploration. You loved touching him, loved the soft reactions he gave, the way his breath hitched ever so slightly as you did so.

He reached out, cupping your cheek with his right hand. You leaned into his touch, letting your own hands drop so you could hold his to your face. He was so warm, so real and alive. You never wanted to lose that feeling.

 _“...To hold infinity in the palm of your hand,_ ” He whispered, stroking your cheek with his thumb, “ _An eternity in an hour.”_

You smiled softly, holding his palm to your mouth so you could kiss it.

“Quoting William Blake,” You murmured, nipping one of his fingers and making that beautiful body jolt a bit in surprise, “Are you going to whisper poetry to me all night?”

“If you so desired it,” He breathed, letting his vest slide off completely. Both hands were on your face now, thumb sliding over your lips, feeling its soft texture. He let out a slow breath, eyes half closed as he marveled the expression you wore, “I could recite every poem I know to you.”

You didn’t answer--instead, you parted your lips when he went to pass those finger over your mouth again, one of them slipping in and touching your tongue. V’s expression shifted a bit, his own lips parted as he took your invitation, letting you trace the line of his index finger with a quiet eagerness. Your tongue sucked him in a bit, making him hiss as you tasted his skin, mouth warm and wet. 

You were teasing now, trying to get a rise out of him and heavily succeeding. His cheeks looked a bit flushed in the light, obvious arousal in that expression now. No longer hidden, absolutely tantalizing. His free hand slid into your hair, holding you as you gently probed his fingers with your tongue, leaving a trail of saliva as you traced a line to his palm. There was something so gentle about the situation, despite its erotic nature. You felt like V was learning himself, something the poet had never been given the chance to do.

You wanted him to learn everything.

You released his hand, instead leaning up to press your lips to his. He reacted instantly, wrapping his arms around you as you positioned yourself on his lap. You kissed himself slowly, eagerly, stroking your hands down his neck to his shoulders. Fuck, you were hot all over, skin tingling deliciously when his hands slid under your blouse, up your back. His taste was on your tongue now, filling your senses as you coaxed his mouth open, making a for a more in depth exploration. He caught on immediately--V was a very fast learner. You felt his lips part, his own tongue sliding against yours, tasting and teasing as you found a pace that set you both just fine. 

Not too fast, not yet. Slowly, so you both could get used to the sensations, committing them to memory. You stayed like that for a few moments, locked in an embrace, enjoying the discovery of each other’s mouths.

V was the first to break away, just to let you catch your breath. You were flushed, eyes meeting his in the dim light to show a knowing look.

“My sparrow,” He breathed in amusement, pushing a lock of hair from your face, “I do believe you are coming undone.”

You smiled softly, grinding once on his lap. His arousal was apparent, and much more obvious than yours. You both sucked in a breath at the friction, V’s more of a hiss.

“So are you,” You murmured, smiling playfully as you wiggled a bit, drawing another light gasp from the poet as you teased him, “So responsive...I like that.”

His hands slid back down to grip your ass, holding you firmly in place to stop your movements. You squeaked softly at the feeling of him squeezing you, a shiver traveling up your spine at the heated look in his eyes. You had definitely just given him something he wanted, you could tell.

“Who is the responsive one?” He murmured, tipping you back onto the mattress with a light breath of air.

He slid his hands along your wrists, pulling them up and over your head. You were now underneath him, the poet straddling your waist with his thighs. He was so light, he weighed practically nothing. You kept your hands where he put them, breath coming in low trembles when he slid those deft fingers back to your blouse. He pulled up the garment, slowly, achingly slow. Exposing your body inch by inch. Christ, he was the one teasing now--and he looked pretty damn satisfied with that. You arched your back, obediently lifting yourself so he could tug it off, while also trying to rub yourself on him a bit more. The contact made you bite your lip, eyes half closed as you took in his sensual expression.

He pressed one of those beautiful hands to your chest, a light warning sound leaving him. One that was clearly telling you to behave.

“You’re enchanting,” He murmured, sliding his finger up your hips, making your stomach quiver a bit, “So lovely, soft, and warm.”

His palms slid along your skin, resting just below your breasts. He reached under you, forcing you to sit up a bit so he could unclasp the black lace bralette. You were impressed, those fingers of his didn’t fumble once with with the thing you knew most men struggled with. You let him slide the straps from your shoulders, the garment falling from you completely. You knew in your right mind you might usually feel exposed in such a situation, but you trusted V enough to be at ease. More so worried about what he thought of you. His expression did not disappoint, the poet staring at your bare skin with a mixture of awe and fascination. And hunger.

“Exquisite,” He breathed, hovering over your form with his black hair hanging down like a curtain around his face, “You’re beautiful, Y/N. Flawless.” He said this even as he slid a hand over your midsection, right over a long, jagged scar marking your rib-cage. Where had you gotten that one? From a death, one that you couldn’t remember.

Still, his words sent a thrill of delight through you, making your heart squeeze a bit.

V continued, sliding his hands over your breasts, the sensation warm and pleasant. You fit perfectly for him, thumbs sliding over your nipples and teasing them into stiff peaks. Your breath hitched in a light gasp, body already sensitive for him and further excited just from his soft motions. He was so gentle with you, like he was learning you inch by inch. And you loved it. You loved it even more when he leaned his head down, capturing your sensitive bud in his mouth. His tongue rolled over it with a light hum, fingers teasing the other with a light squeeze. That made you jerk a bit, one of your hands sliding into his ebony hair as a whimper escaped you. His mouth was hot, wet, the sensation of it sending jolts right down to your aching core, already pining for his attention.

“V…” You whispered, gently fisting his hair. You were surprised when that earned you a response, a soft sound leaving his lips at the feeling. For a moment you were afraid you had pulled to hard, but when you look at him his expression was...well, it wasn’t an expression of pain.

“Did you like that…?” You smiled a bit, stroking that same hand through his silken hair. It wasn’t a judging question, more like a curious one.

V looked away, putting a hand to his mouth as he took on that furrowed brow. Embarrassed again. Adorable.

“...It seems there is always new things to learn about myself.” He mumbled, the sound muffled by his hand.

You giggled a bit, pulling him against you so the two of you were body to body. Your breasts pressed to his bare chest, making you shiver at the sensation.

“That’s not a bad thing,” You murmured in his ear, gently biting the lobe and making him grunt, “Lots of people like a little hair pulling. It’s cute.” You fisted his hair again for emphasis, being a little more rough this time--he hissed,  burning jade eyes meeting yours with a heated expression.

He was kissing you in the next instant, fervently now, discovering just how he liked it. You stroked and touched his back while he did so, feeling his hands work their way to your shorts, tugging at the button with impatience. You almost laughed, but spared him that much as you lifted your hips, letting him pull that article of clothing off of you too. You were glad the panties Nico gave you were lace too, and easily matched the bra you had before. V eyed them a bit with a tip of his head, making you flush a little and squirm. He was definitely the observing type, and those eyes seemed to catch every little detail.

He hooked a finger under the lacy fabric, sliding them gingerly down your legs. Sensually. Slowly. Your thighs trembled a bit, instinctively sliding together as the garment was finally slid down past your feet. You were now fully exposed to the poet’s eyes, something that was very strange all by itself. He could see every scar you wore, every bit of evidence that spoke of your past lives. The mark of your Deity was faintly visible on your hips, curling around on your navel. Somehow, you felt like seeing you in this way was showing him all the secrets you kept for yourself, everything you had withheld from him in an attempt to distance him. No, not distance him. More like...protect him from your own burdens and fears. Being bare like this really made they seem so...obvious.

“You look nervous,” V murmured, his nectar-coated voice bringing you out of your anxieties a bit, “Are you alright? If at any time you do not want me to continue, I can stop.”

Blessed boy, so concerned for you.

You shook your head, burying your face in his shoulder and pressing a light kiss there, “I’m fine, just thinking about something.”

He let out a light hum, sliding his nose along your neck to the hollow of your throat. Almost like he was inhaling you, tone soft as he replied, “Indulge me.”

You smiled softly, trying to find something between a truth and a lie.

“I don’t think I’ve been naked for anyone before,” You murmured in reply, tilting your head back and biting your lip when his tongue stroked up to your jaw. He was certainly learning his way around things fast, exploring you with that gentle intensity. It made your knees feel weak, had you been standing you would have dropped, “At least...not that I can remember, not in this way. I...think I had those memories taken.”

V paused at your words, lifting his head to meet your gaze. His expression was soft, searching as he cupped your jaw with his hand.

“Well now,” He murmured, voice like warm honey over you, “I suppose I’ll just have to make this an unforgettable experience for you.”

You smiled at that, “Already have, pretty boy.”

He chuckled, sliding that hand from your neck, all the way down to your navel. The slow, teasing journey made your eyes roll back a bit, woes forgotten for a short time. Much to your surprise, V left your thigh highs on, sliding a hand up your thigh right over the fabric. You blinked--was that a preference of his? If so, it was pretty cute of him to like it. Regardless, you weren’t given a lot of time to think about it. 

V was tracing idle patterns on your inner thigh, leaning over you with a bemused smile as he watched your face. You leaned up to kiss him, feeling his fingers trace their way to your wet heat. Anticipation made your toes curl, breath hitching when he delved his fingers in. Just a simple stroke of his digits over your sensitive bundle of nerves had a soft whimper leaving your lips, eyes closing as a shiver traveled up your spine. He was right, you were just as, if not more, sensitive than he was. Arousal was curling in your gut, already making that slow exploration pleasurable for you. It was an effort to keep your hips still, letting him take his time with it, but you couldn’t help yourself. He released you from your kiss, your head tilting to the side in an attempt to hide the soft sounds you were making.

The made him smile lightly, more akin to a cocky smirk as he quickened his pace a bit. That made your hips arch up, searching for more contact as you put your hand to your mouth. But honestly, who did you have risk of hearing you? Nero had gone on ahead, and no one had touched this place for years.

“So bashful,” V murmured, breath hot on your jaw as he kissed you there, “Why are you hiding from me, darling? Where did all that confidence go?” He probed your entrance with a gentle finger as he spoke, slipping one long digit inside and making you gasp. Your thighs trembled a bit, coaxed open further as he tested your resistance a bit, “You’re so wet, ready for me.”

Where you had grown bashful, he had grown bold. His tone was breathy, akin to a grown as he continued his motions, pleasure steadily growing with each movement of his fingers. He continued his motions, adding a second digit to stretch you a bit. His searching found a spot that made you jolt, a started gasp leaving your mouth and toes curling into the makeshift bed you were both on. That made him smile, a bit of a knowing look in his gaze as he let it linger on your flushed face. Christ, that felt good, too good. And worse, V was unrelenting. As soon as he realized that sensitive spot, he began stroking his fingers against you steadily, wringing moans from your lips.  Your back arched up, hips rolling gently to meet him which each movement.

“How does that feel?” V breathed, that coy grin tilting those full lips as your body arched again, “You’re close, I can tell.”

You definitely were, barely able to form coherent sentences.

“D...don’t stop…” Your voice was shaky, pleasure curling in your stomach as his fingers continued stroking and teasing. You clutched at his back, resisting the urge to dig your nails in a bit as you buried your face in his shoulder. Too much, not enough--you were on the edge ready to tumble over. He let out a low, soothing hum, holding the back of your head with his free hand as his other brought you closer and closer to the edge. 

He closed his eyes, seeming to savor the sounds you were making, the sensation of your body trembling against his. Being with him there, the feeling of his fingers stroking you, his hand in your hair...all the terrible things in the world seemed to fade, just for that moment. Was it wrong, to have just that night were nothing mattered? Not the Deity, or the mission, just you and the poet. 

It was on that thought that you finally came, toes digging into the mattress as you pressed your face to his skin. Your hips arched, thighs trembling as pleasure burst through you, heady and addicting. Everything seemed to slow, just in that moment. You face pressed to his shoulder, V whispering sweet praises in your ear as you came down from that rush of positive stimuli. He continued to stroke and tease you until you were twitching, body relaxing onto the bed and eyes firmly closed. You couldn’t remember the last time you had an orgasm, and especially not one like that. You didn’t care either, the moment heavily precious to you, something you would want to keep even if things fell apart.

V let out a low, pleased sound, pressing his lips to yours as you fully relaxed, arms over his shoulders and eyes fluttering open to look at him. He seemed satisfied himself, jade eyes staring at you with a strange mix of emotions, one you couldn’t identify.

“Y/N,” He murmured, leaning away just enough that your breath mingled in the air. You could feel his arousal pressed against your hip, straining against the barrier of his pants and aching to be touched, “I need…”

You let out a low sound of understanding, kissing him again and stroking your hip against him. He let out a light groan in response, head falling against your shoulder. You pressed a hand to his chest, a silent request for him to sit up, one that he heeded. The sight of his broad shoulders, covered in your love bites and kisses made your head spin. They were barely visible among the black of the tattoos, but they were there nonetheless. But that wasn’t what you were focusing on at the moment. You drew your attention to his slacks, nude body straddling his lap as you coaxed the top button out. Undressing the poet was half the battle, but a battle you found enjoyable. Both of you worked together to undress him fully. You were surprised to find him wearing form fitting black boxers, not hesitating to tug those off too and free his hard length.

You bit your lip when he was fully undressed, kneeling before you in bare glory. Christ, he was lovely. Lanky, skinny, but an art all in itself. He looked like he was sculpted lovingly by the gods, and you felt your breath catch in awe at the sight of him. He seemed anxious for your reaction, eyes staring at your face as you leaned closer to him. You pressed a hand to his thigh, using your other one to grasp his cock firmly. And what a specimen he was. His breath caught when you touched his aching length, eyelids fluttering shut and his lips parting. He was fully aroused, and not lacking in the size department. He was...perfect. You knew how much you could take, and you could more than take him.

“You’re so beautiful, V,” You murmured, stroking his cock with a steady hand, thumb rubbing over the head and smearing a bead of pre-cum, “I don’t know if anyone has told you that.”

He sucked in a shuddering breath, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned his forehead to yours.

“No one but you,” He breathed, ebony hair brushing your face, “And that’s all that matters.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, hand tugging him closer just as you summoned another small vial into your hands. You thought you saw V pause, giving you a questioning look until you smoothed the liquid over his length. You still used lube even as aroused as you were, just to be sure. It was only beneficial anyway. 

Only then did you let him tip you back again, vial rolling empty across the floor as you thought over his response to your statement. His words made you ache, wishing he could even begin to see you how you saw him. You could tell he didn’t particularly love himself, which hurt to imagine--though you could relate. It was hard to find a love for yourself, especially living the lives you and he had. You wanted to show him how beautiful he was, wanted to make him feel as good as possible. So you leaned back, still stroking him gently as you slid your tongue along his, other hand fisting his ebony locks just enough to tug a bit. He groaned softly, the sound vibrating in your lungs and filling you with fresh arousal. That was a sexy noise, to be sure. One you wanted to hear again.

“Don’t make me wait,” You whispered against his lips, tilting your hips up against him once you finally released his cock from your hand, “I want it. Please?”

V  grit his teeth a bit, hair hanging down in front of his eyes as he hovered over you for a bit.

“Y/N,” He breathed, cupping your jaw with his hand, “I don’t have a...you could get…”

You blinked, realizing right away what he was trying to say. He didn’t have a condom--the thought never occurred to you, and you knew why. You kissed his forehead reassuringly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I can’t get pregnant,” You murmured, the words feeling mechanical on your tongue. A simple fact, one you knew to be true yet...you didn’t know the reason why. Maybe the Deity had removed such a thing from you to prevent such incidents like these from going south? You weren’t sure, but at that moment you could hardly care. You pressed your head to V’s, voice low as you added, “I promise. You can have me all you want.”

It was the truth in its entirety.

V let out a slow breath, jade eyes meeting yours and seeing no hint of hesitation. You gave him a soft smile, kissing him tenderly even as you arched your back, his hard length sliding over your moist heat. You both released noises of want, noises muffled by meshing lips. You didn’t want to wait, you didn’t want to think. Both of you needed this, you knew that much. That urgency filled the air again, V’s breaths coming fast and hot against your mouth as he slid his hands up your thighs, tilting them as far back as he could get you to go. Luckily for him, you could bend easily, there was no strain. He tilted his head down, eyes closed like he was focusing hard and pulling away from your eager lips. Anticipation fluttered inside, growing in intensity, growing in wanting. You could hardly wait.

You felt him position himself, the tip of his cock kissing your entrance. Heart pounding, you sucked in a breath, releasing in a low moan when you felt him pushing inside. The discomfort was slight, body definitely aroused enough to take him in. Especially with your own wetness mingling with the lubricant on his length. He released a low sound of strain, the slide inside your sheath easy and oh so warm. 

You traced your hands to his back, feeling the muscles there bunch and relax, body pressing yours into the mattress. This felt right, this felt whole. Like two puzzle pieces fitting together, a perfect meshing of human bodies. You tilted your head back, each counted breath feeling like it was made of heat as he found a home inside. Your body certainly could take all of him, the poet seated inside to the hilt.

Fuck, you couldn’t ever recall a feeling like this.

He released a breath against your skin, panting softly as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Your thighs were soft, hugging him with a gentle warmth as you gave his cock a light squeeze, teasing a bit.

He immediately hissed out a moan, fingers digging into the sheets near your head, “Y/N, that feels…” He released another low sound of pleasure, jade eyes fluttering open to meet yours, “You could be the end of me, sparrow.”

You let of a shaky breath, one both of you felt.

“Not yet,” You whispered, stroking a thumb over his soft lips, “Just a little bit more, just a little bit-- _ahhh_ …!”

Your voice cut off in a moan when he began thrusting inside, eyes squeezing shut now that he was stroking along your inner walls. You were already sensitive from your previous orgasm, the new provided stimuli making your thighs tremble. Your head tilted back again, the poet kissing your neck up to your jaw, tongue stroking along the skin above that pounding artery. You could hardly focus on anything else, mind foggy with pleasure as V started working you toward a second peak. How were you supposed to go without this again? It was rapture in its purest form, a delight you never wanted to forget. V’s movements were precise, steady, and still...gentle. A slow rocking inside, building that slow budding pleasure in your core. Each stroke was over that spot he found before, making your eyes roll back a bit.

He slid his hand up to your mouth as he moved, fingers sliding over your parted lips. You didn’t hesitating, moaning when you sucked his fingers inside. Tasting, stroking your tongue over them again and again. He didn’t let you do it for long, sliding his moistened thumb over your jaw so he could kiss you instead. V was such a passionate person, you could tell by the way he carried himself, especially in love making. So expressive, eyes alight with so many things. Eagerness, hunger, desire, pleasure...he was exquisite, and he stared at you like you were the world. And for that moment, the world outside was quiet, so quiet. No demons, no bloodshed, no Qliphoth tree. Just you and the poet in a church, sharing that moment with each other.

You didn’t want it to end. But neither of you could hold out any longer.

“V…!” Your voice came in a low gasp, face pressing to his shoulder again as you came. Something akin to a sob left your lips, muffled by his skin as you arched up into him. He let out a sharp groan of his own, head pressing to the side of yours so the sound vibrated right against your ear. He was finished too, pleasure reaching its peak with a few more hard grinds against your quaking body.

You felt him release his own orgasm inside, back muscles clenching as he did so. Fuck, it felt warm...and so good. The sensation made you shudder, sharp pants making your chest rise and fall in rapid movements. Was that V’s heart pounding, or your own? Or both. You could hardly tell where you began and he ended. And to you, that was exactly correct. Your head was swimming deliciously with pleasure, toes curled and shivers traveling down your spine. You felt V rest his weight on you, head still on your shoulder as his own breath came in low pants. For someone who was easily worn out, he had lasted like a trooper. A light sheen of sweat was on his lanky body, mingling with your own  and cooled when a light breeze blew through the window.

And for a that moment, it was peaceful. Both of you holding each other, enjoying the remaining pleasure with each other as you closed your eyes. You had no idea how much time had passed, and you didn’t care. Hell, even the Void power inside was swirling in a pleasing manner, a dull roar with zero complaints. Your carnal activities didn’t add to your energy, but it took none of the power away, which seemed fair enough. You just...didn’t know what to say, heart feeling full of so many good feelings. And also full of some anxiety.

Because you were right--these activities did not quench that energy in its entirety, merely adding fuel to the fire.

You felt more attracted to the poet than ever, closer to him than ever. You felt like your eyes were burning, touch-starved body feeling so incredibly relieved but now addicted to the feeling. You didn’t want to know what going with this sensation was like again, the sensation of...being cared for, loved. Being held in V’s arms after sharing your body with him was like balm on a lonely, aching soul. That soul being yours. And you didn’t want it from anyone else--just him. If V was the opposite of you, if this experience left him fully satisfied and curiosity quenched...you didn’t know what you would do. It would hurt, it would hurt terribly. But you knew what you were doing when you got into this with him...you both knew.

When V started to rise from you, a bolt of fear traveled through you, overshadowing some of the bad feelings. But he was only doing so to kiss you, sending relief flooding in immediately after. You could have cried, seeing that expression of soft tenderness still on his face. One of his hands stroked your hair back from your forehead, the other holding him up as he looked you over. Maybe searching for any sign of discomfort, maybe injury, or hesitation. He must have found none, relief settling over his expression as well.

“Are you alright?” He murmured in that silken tone, tilting his head as he brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek, “Look at you. You’re a mess.”

You smiled softly, giving him a chaste kiss as you whispered, “Look who’s talking. I think sex looks good on you.”

That made him chuckle, rolling you both over and slipping from from your entrance in the next instant. That made you sigh, a shudder traveling through you at the sensation. You mumbled a quick spell to clean you both and the area around you before it got too out of hand. V seemed to appreciate that, letting out a low hum as he pulled you into his arms. You could relax entirely now, eyes fluttering shut as you listened to the poet’s heartbeat. Slowing, just like yours, body still so warm and soothing. 

You both took the time to lay in silence, locked in an embrace as another cool breeze blew over the room. It felt so nice on your taxed body, making you smile to yourself. It felt like you and V were communicating again, still quiet as you both absorbed the activities you had just done.

And as before, V was the first to speak into the silent air.

“We’re both in trouble,” He mused, stroking those tattooed fingers through your silken locks as his jaw moved above your head, “I fear our exploration is only going to make us behave even less.”

That made you giggle, head snuggling against the poet’s chest as a feeling of peace settled over you.

“That’s okay. We can both apologize to Griffon tomorrow.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait! I swear, when I'm done with this story you all will know, I'll make it obvious. Until then, expect more. I'm not done yet <3 Also, I have a new upload schedule. I post one chapter saturday and one sunday, cause fuck I'm gonna burn myself out otherwise ^^; I'm known as spirit-of-the-void on tumblr if you guys wanna check me out there...I do some saucy, sexy headcannons >.>

_Chapter 14_

_**Chapter warnings** : Violence, panic attacks, detailed death._

 

_“Stop squirming...!”_

_You couldn’t breathe--why? Why was this happening? They were pressing you so hard into the ground, the weight on your back making your lungs ache with each wheezing gasp. You struggled, arms held by reaching hands so rough they were bruising you._

_“Where is her wallet?! Search her pockets, search everything...!”_

_No no no... you couldn’t let them do that, they couldn’t just take everything...! You bucked hard, slamming your weight into the man above you until he yelped in pain. Another set of hands tried to grab you, another trying to stick something in your mouth to silence your shrieking cries for help. You felt a finger, and immediately bit down as hard as you could. The coppery taste of blood spread on your tongue, and a scream of agony rang out. You bit him, bit one of them. You were so desperate; you couldn’t let them take the only things you had. You worked hard. You had worked so fucking hard. It was four against one and you didn’t know what else to do._

_“She bit me...! You stupid bitch...!” He shrieked, rage in his tone as another hand pressed your face into the wet concrete._

_The man immediately retaliated, kicking you in the head so hard your ears rang. You nearly blacked out, pain spiraling through your skull and in your nose. You heard a few of the other men let out alarmed shouts at the man’s actions, the hold on you loosening a bit when they began to argue. You had to do something, you had to escape. As soon as the two holding you were distracted you scrabbled up, knocking the one on top of you over despite your size. You head spun, ear ringing as you tried to run away. You needed help, you needed someone. Anyone. If you could make it to the street maybe someone could see. But everything was so blurry—why was it so blurry?_

_A shout sounded behind you as you tried to run, stumbling and sliding on the wet ground. Several sets of feet scrambled, probably of the men giving chase. Panic was griping you now, desperation and fear. You didn’t want to lose your money, you needed to pay for the deposit on your new home. You just bought that phone, after months of saving up. This couldn’t be happening; you wouldn’t let it. But you had no chance, the damage to your head making your consciousness slip in and out, feet stumbling and ear sounding like it was under water. Was that blood dripping from your temple? It felt warm through all the pain._

_Someone immediately slammed into you, roughly pushing your body to the ground. You tried to scream, but the sound was cut off when your head cracked on the concrete. You were going to black out, you could feel it. And still, you fought it. You could tell this was the man you bit, his hurt hand roughly grabbing you by your hair and jerking your head back. He was panting, furious, terrifyingly angry. Your hearing faded in and out a bit, the sound of the other boys yelling sounding so muffled and far away. Why were they yelling like that? You couldn’t understand them, couldn’t figure out which way was up and which was down. On your stomach again, you could tell that much. You heard another sound in that roar filling your ears, one you didn’t understand. Like metal sliding over stone._

_“What the hell...are you doing..?!” One boy shrieked, but you heard thudding, like someone was being hit. More sounds followed by a warning snarl from the man sitting on you. Tears were stinging your eyes now, vision swimming and fading in and out of focus. Each breath from your lungs felt like absolute fire, wheezing and panting in panicked gasps. You couldn’t see them, what were they doing? You just wanted to go home. You worked so hard all day; you didn’t have a car. What were you supposed to do? There was four of them, one of you. It wasn’t fair._

_It wasn’t fair._

_“She fucking bit me...!” The man above you rasped, tone filled with fury as he reared back. You felt a white-hot stab of pain on your right shoulder, the sensation making you scream out against the ground. What was he doing? What was happening? It hurt, everything hurt so much._

_“Stop! Dude stop!” One of the boys cried, sounding scared. Why was he scared? You were the one being attacked, “We were just supposed to snatch her shit and run...! What the fuck man?!”_

_Another stab. Then another. Over and over, slicing along your back and shoulders. Your eyes went wide, horror filling you when the realization hit. Cutting you, he was cutting you over and over. The pain was so awful, filling you to the brim as the screams died in your throat. His heavy breathing above you was fading, fading with the sound of his friends yelling at him to stop. You wanted to do the same, want to kick and yell and fight with everything you had. But a plunge of his blade into your back sent numbness through your legs and arms, the pain suddenly gone. You felt yourself go limp, eyes wide and staring with horror at the wall._

_No...no no no. This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair._

_You had been working so hard, things were finally getting better. You had worked, struggled, and finally surfaced from the bullshit. Things had been looking up, your friends were moving you into their home in a month. All that grinding, all that working, all the crying and pain. You had done your share, you had done your share of suffering. And now, once everything was starting to improve...you were going to die. Alone, in an alley on wet, filthy earth. Panic was gripping you, filling you to the brim as the world around you started to fade. You couldn’t breathe, could feel your heart stuttering and faltering. And through it all the boys yelled in panic, voices warbled and far away. Something about leaving your stuff, should they leave your stuff? Maybe it would be best if people thought it was murder, not a robbery. But what about fingerprints? They had touched everything._

_And through it all, through the fading of everything, emotions filled you. Rage, anger, indignation, pain, sorrow, fear, panic._

_It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair It wasn’t fair It wasn’t fair._

_They stepped around your body. They didn’t even spare a passing glace._

_It wasn’t fair._

_All this for your wallet. All this to steal from you what you had rightfully earned._

_It wasn’t fair._

_You took your final breath, and through it all your brain repeated until it could repeat no more._

_It. Wasn't. Fair._

_“Y/N...!”_

You jolted awake with a panicked scream, the sound echoing in the church.

Arms firmly gripped you, holding you against a chest.  What the hell was happening? Everything was so confusing, warped between waking and dreaming. Fear still filled you, white hot and heady as you tried to struggle. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t grasp reality. Hyperventilating, you tried to extend your tendrils, trying to pull something off of you that you couldn’t remember. Something bad was happening, someone had hurt you. But you couldn’t...why didn’t you know what had hurt you? Your breathing was so fast, heart hammering and hands shaking as you tried to pull whoever was holding you off of your back. You just had to get away, had to escape. Nothing else mattered, nothing else made sense.  

And through it all, through the panic they held you. _He_ held you.  

“You’re safe...!” A familiar voice breathed in your ear, breath warm and tone firm—like honey, it poured over you softly and soothingly, “Y/N, you are _safe._ ”

Several things started to click in place, one by one. Reality was returning in bits and pieces, dream fading with each inhaled breath. You were awake, no longer in the memory that had plagued you—what was it that you were dreaming about? Something bad, something terrifying and real. Your vision focused, tears dripping down your cheeks as you looked shakily around the church. It was still dark, still the coolness of night. You could faintly make out the pews shoved against the walls, slightly illuminated by the light of the moon outside. Your back was so warm cradled against him—V, you knew it was he who held your trembling frame. You had fallen asleep with V, and now you were awake. Panicking, crushed by something that your mind wouldn’t even let you keep.  

You could feel him breathing, warmth on your neck and his voice like a lifeline in the dark. You clung to it, trying to ground yourself in reality. Your body didn’t feel like your own at that moment, like it was somewhere else entirely. Why of all nights did your mind have to do this, remind you of something terrible during your sleeping hours? You had been so happy before, the night spent with the poet healing for you. Reviving. It made you forget everything terrible, every small thing that plagued you. And yet...you awoke to that feeling of fear, of absolute terror. Like you had died, all over again. The very thought made your muscles seize, a terrible ache lingering on your back and shoulders. Why would the Deity allow such a thing to resurface, knowing what you had just felt hours before?

_It wasn’t fair._

The instant that thought hit you, a pain cracked your temple, spreading like spiderwebs near your ear. You whimpered, clutching a hand to it and trying to force whatever was trying to surface back. Bad, that was a bad reminder. You shouldn’t have been thinking things like that, not now. The power of the Void was toiling, rolling in your stomach like bile. An ocean, rising and falling without rhyme or reason. It burned terribly, and it wasn’t seeming to go away—your mind had connected with the Void far too much during rest, that was for sure. You felt V shift as he sensed your pain, stroking a hand through your hair as everything seemed to still for a moment, slowing down the panicked racing of your heart. You wished you could stop crying, but the liquid dripping down your cheeks just wouldn’t stop.

“Breathe for me,” The poet murmured in a coaxing tone, lips brushing your ear, "You're awake. You are safe.”

His voice was so low, so soft and warm. It curled around you like a caress even as one of his hands slid up to stroke your jaw. You slumped against him, eyes closing now that your consciousness was fully returned. What the hell had happened to you? Your body had jolted awake ready to defend itself, back aching and panic filling every part of you. You briefly panicked, gaze jerking behind to see if you had accidentally attacked the poet. 

He stared back with a concerned gaze, but his body was wound free, still bare and as you remembered it. Your tendrils were wrapped around his waist, chest, and shoulders. But it didn’t look like you had grasped tight enough to hurt. Thank the void for that at least. You let out a shaken sigh, hands coming up to hold your face as you rested it against V’s chest. Christ, what was wrong with you? Other missions didn’t seem to have this much chaos in it, this many reminders and painful nightmares. Was the Void going through another one of its strange times of change, effecting you in the process?

“Are you alright?” V murmured, stroking your hair back from your clammy forehead, “Please talk to me, Y/N.”

You shook your head, not even sure what to say. No explanation could really tell him enough to excuse the whole situation, though he didn’t appear angry by it at all.

He let out a low hum, those full lips pressing to the top of your head in a tender gesture.

“A nightmare?” He whispered, tone sounding like a question but you were sure he wasn't asking one, “You were writhing in your sleep, sobbing and crying. You were talking.”

That made you tense, a foreboding feeling crawling up your spine.  

“...Wh...what was I saying...?” You whispered against his chest, throat raw from screaming.

He let out a low breath, hand still stroking your hair soothingly. He seemed pretty damn focused on comforting you above anything, which was nice. Being held by him after a terrible moment was more than nice, it pulled you out of the panic much faster than you could yourself. Still, the lingering unhappiness at your Deity and the Void remained, wishing you could have had a perfect night sleep and not disturb yourself or the poet. You were at least grateful he hadn’t let Griffon and Shadow out, especially considering how you were still nude. V had the kindness to have wrapped you in a thin blanket, the sensation making you feel just slightly more secure.

“You were...” He hesitated, tone low and filled with so many questions he wasn’t asking. He was still so gentle despite that, worried for you, “You were begging someone to stop hurting you.  Then...you wouldn’t stop repeating something.”

You swallowed a bit, shivering when that ache came back. You couldn’t remember, but you shouldn’t try to.

“What was I repeating...?” Your mouth still asked, but you felt like you knew.

Sure enough, when he replied his words sent a twinge of remembrance down your back. And that slight pain in your skull.

“You kept repeating ‘it’s not fair’,” He tiled his head to face you, making you meet his concerned, searching gaze. The look in his eyes made you want to cry, like he was searching into your soul, “Y/N...did someone hurt you?”

You froze at the question, that pain in your temple growing as your brain automatically tried to think of the answer. It was yes, the answer was always yes. But who? And when? And why? Those answers never came, and trying made the tears drip steadier from your eyes. He wiped them away, concern only growing as you struggled to find the words to respond. 

Christ, you wanted to tell him everything. But there was so much you were hiding, so much you didn’t understand yourself. All the rules, all the stipulations. The Void was a dark place, and that dark place existed inside you. The task was to come here and help in whatever way you could, but your attachment to him was real and heady. You never wanted him to think you were using him for anyway. But the lies were drowning you now, like the Void was clawing its way through your throat. You could taste it on your tongue, cold and vile.

“Yes,” You answered in a small voice, tone filled with so many broken things, “But I can’t remember...I don’t remember being hurt, or who hurt me...I...” The emotion was there, the fear and the pain. But the memory was gone, like a ghost griping your soul in a vise without substance.

V still seemed to understand, eyes darkening a bit as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“A ghost of a memory remains,” He murmured, quoting what you told him that day after the sewers, “All the emotions and feelings but without substance.”

You took a shuddering breath, closing your eyes as you nodded.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, heart clenching painfully in your chest. You didn’t want your burdens to weigh on him, not like this, “I’m...sorry.”

He squeezed you tighter, his own breath catching at your mumbled words. You couldn’t sense his face, but you hoped he wasn’t angry. It didn’t seem to be in his nature, but that worry still remained. His opinion of you mattered, his view of you _mattered_. So much for appearing strong, right? At least, that’s what your brain told yourself. V wasn’t an unkind person, so why should a lack of strength be frightening to you? Even then, his hold on you never wavered, his breath steady and his heartbeat firm under your ear. You were lacking in so many things, but his presence mad them feel...full, like they didn’t matter. You never wanted to lose that.

“Never apologize for your own pain,” V replied in a hushed murmur, but his voice took on a fierce tone you had never heard, “I wish I knew what to do, how to protect you from these things. But as always...this is all I can give.”

You closed your eyes, heartbeat growing calm as you replied, “This is enough.” And it was, in that moment. More than enough.

V let out a sigh, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.  

“Y/N,” He said, tone full of so many hesitations, “This Deity...is he truly doing what is best for you? I do not understand much, but I know enough to see that this is painful for you. Why should you have to endure it?”

Your heart picked up again at the mention of your Deity, confusion filling you. What did he have to do with it, really? He was the reason you were here, but he didn’t control your mind, didn’t make the trauma pop up at random. That was based on the Void and you...at least you hoped so. V’s words ignited an unease in you, thoughts popping into your head one after the other. In all of your years serving the Deity, you never questioned him or his actions—it was disrespectful, blasphemy. He was a God and you, in a way, were his priestess. But something was pressing at the back of your skull, quiet and hushed like a whisper in the dark. You didn’t dare acknowledge it, in fear of how the Void power would react. But it was there, the ever-present realization.

The Deity had been...oddly _quiet_ this mission.

In other missions he appeared in your dreams, would appear in mirrors or shrines he creates along your path. He loved being vocal, being a part of everything. Yet this time around...he had only appeared when summoned, then departed without a word. No comments on V, nor the mission. His silence was a thing of unease, and you didn’t like it. Especially not after other doubts had made themselves known. He was another person you never wanted to anger, so you hoped he hadn’t sensed your doubt and became displeased. But...something didn’t feel right.

Still, your mouth spoke those mechanical words, low like you were reciting an invocation.

 _“It is a reminder that I am alive,"_ Your voice was hushed, the whisper of the Void in your ears, "Pain always is."

That made him pause again, sucking in a slight breath.

He squeezed you tighter, letting out a low rumble in his chest as he sighed, “We will have to work on that, it would seem.”

You blinked. What did he mean by that?

But he didn’t add to it, simply pulling you down with him onto the mattress with a low huff. You were settled along him nicely, his arm holding you cradled against his side. You were wide awake, face a bit flushed as you remembered the more...carnal activities from the evening. It had all seemed like a dream now, but the bed you were on and the very obvious nudity told a very x-rated story. You looked up at the poet’s face, surprised when his eyes were still open, staring up at the arches holding up the church’s roof. You couldn’t identify the emotions there, as much as you wanted to. He looked deep in thought, lips slightly parted and those jade eyes kind of far away. You bit your lip nervously, hoping that he wasn’t upset in any way. He now looked wide awake as well.  

You didn’t know what time it was, but upon looking at the window you could faintly see the peeking hints of sunlight on the horizon. Still dark outside, but close to dawn. Maybe four or five o'clock? You rubbed one eye, yawning despite being awake. At least the dream waited until morning rather than waking you both up at midnight. 

Still, you lied there with the poet for some time, both of you thinking and relaxing. You didn’t have a measure of time, but it felt long enough. He was lightly stroking your hair the whole time, tracing patterns on your scalp, heartbeat steady and calm. You took the time to think over what he said, what was plaguing you about your Deity. There was a time to think about these things, but for now...you came to the conclusion that there were a lot of things you didn’t understand, about both the Deity and the Void. And that had to be respected.

Just like there were things about V you couldn’t comprehend.

“There’s so much we don’t understand about each other,” You murmured after some time, making the goth’s gaze shift to you, “So much we both hide. We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”

He let out a low hum, one that sounded a bit rueful.

“Perhaps,” He squeezed you a bit, fingers pausing in their idle actions for the moment, “It would be...wise to reach a compromise of some sort, would it not?”

You blinked at that, meeting his jade eyes and brushing some of his ebony hair away from his face, “What do you have in mind?”

“I propose we both agree to divulge one thing about ourselves each day,” He said carefully, lifting a strand of your hair and rubbing it between his fingers, “It can be big or small, up to your discretion.”

“That sounds... fair.” You agreed hesitantly, biting your lip again. Christ, what could you even begin to tell him? You wanted to be as honest as possible, but it was already balancing on the half-truths you had divulged already. And that was without the million things you didn’t know or understand yourself, things in regards to the Deity and the Void...There was so much to unpack. 

When did things become so complicated? Life on others missions was so focus based, do your duty then you leave when you realized you didn’t belong. You closed your eyes, letting out a soft sigh as you lifted your head to look at him—that was where the complexities came from. He made you feel like you _did_ belong, they all did. It wasn’t like the other times; something was different this mission.

You couldn’t place your finger on what.

“Can I ask a question then...?” You asked him hesitantly, tracing the tattoos on his chest. They writhed a bit, like they felt your touches the same as V, “Consider it...your reveal for the day.”

His mouth quirked up in a half smile, his hands smoothing your hair back a bit, “Is it pertaining to my fetishes?”

No it wasn’t, but now you were curious.

You rose a brow, “Depends, got any you wanna share?”  

“...In time.”  

That made you shiver a bit and smile, but you had to stay on topic. You had an actual question, one that pertained to the fight the previous day. The fight with those creatures, the ones on the sliding Opera house. V's reaction to them had confused you, mind still not understanding what was so special about those particular demons. You would have asked Griffon at some point, but you had been, er...heavily distracted at the time. Now that you and the poet were alone to talk, maybe getting things from his mouth was best. Would it upset him? The mood between you two was so good, calm and gentle after the turmoil of a dream. But there were things you wanted to know, so you needed to gain some courage and ask for once.

“When...we were fighting yesterday,” You murmured, eyes warily meeting his again, “The Opera house. Those demons we fought seemed to make you...angry. Why is that?”

That made V’s hand movements stop, a troubled expression shifting onto his face. He shifted his eyes away once before he met your gaze again, the look in his jade orbs making your heart pound with worry. His lips were parted, but he was silent for a long moment. Like he didn't know how to answer. 

You felt bad--you hoped you hadn't asked something too insensitive for your first question of the night. If he chose not to answer you would understand and respect that. Any and all information on him you could get was definitely welcome, that was for certain. The thought made you flush—part of you couldn’t believe you had already made love to him, after such a short time. You felt like you knew him. But in reality, there was so much you didn’t know. Did you regret it? Absolutely not.

V was silent for a few moments, seeming to weigh his response heavily. If you weren’t mistaken, vulnerability was in his gaze. It made your heart ache, eyes searching his face worriedly as he continued not to speak. He eventually sat up, still holding you in his arms as he did so and cradling you gently. You wished you knew what was going on in his head, behind those eyes. He seemed to hide so much behind a wry smile and that mystery, shrouding himself in it like it was a safety net. A defense mechanism. You were no better, but it still made you hurt just to think about it. When did the poet ever confide in anyone? You doubted he ever did. And living life like that was a lonely existence, one you knew too well.

“You...you don’t have to answer if it’s something you can’t say,” You whispered after another pause, stroking a hand down his chest, “I’m sorry if it was something I shouldn’t ask.”

He shook his head, holding your hand to his chest as he replied quietly, “Your curiosity is a gift, never apologize for it. I seem to... forget how perceptive you are at times,” He smiled ruefully, a light tilt of those full lips as he chuckled lightly, “Those eyes of yours see all, don’t they?”

You flushed at that, hiding your face against his chest.

“I just observe you a lot,” You mumbled in reply, honesty making your ears warm as you added, “You fascinate me. I want to figure you out.”

That made him chuckle a bit more, tilting your head back up so he could smirk at you, “Am I a mystery to you, little sparrow?”

“Always,” You murmured, "But lucky for you, I love mysteries."

That made him smile a bit more, but that soon faded. Your question was still hovering in the air, unaddressed and waiting for his response. It didn’t feel like he had been trying to change the subject, more so give himself more time to think. Hell, if he wanted to wait days to answer you would respect that. But you pressed a kiss to his hand, extending each finger to brush your lips to each one. An encouragement, a comfort of sorts. It made him suck in a breath, face flushing a bit at your actions. Maybe doing one of his turn ons while nude in a room in the early morning was not your smartest plan, but V was on his best behavior.

Still, he humored your question.

“Those creatures you saw...” He let out a slow breath, fingers tapping on your bare skin as he hesitated again, “They are what is known as _Angelos.”_

You blinked at the unfamiliar term, wishing you knew what they were and their significance. V seemed bitter about it, his tone taking on a strange edge at mention of them. It almost sounded like another term for “angels”, but that obviously wasn’t right if they were demons.  

“Let’s just say I had a... particularly damaging experience with an _angelo_ in my life,” V continued in a low tone, his face pressed to your hair. You could feel his muscles clench a bit, tense as he kept going, “One that...gives me nightmares.”

That made your heart clench, like a vise was squeezing you. His tone was aching, filled with that vulnerability you sensed earlier. Seeing something scare him was surprising, but it was understandable considering the life he had lived. He didn’t seem like he wanted to elaborate, but you had heard enough to comprehend that there was trauma behind the incident—and asking something for specifics especially when they don't seem open to do so is...damaging. The best you could do was support him and offer comfort in areas where he previously had none. And sometimes? That was enough. At least from your own experiences, the sensation of companionship was better in the dark than swimming in that Void alone. Pain was your reminder, but it didn’t have to be his.

You didn’t want it to be his.

So, you rose up a bit, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a full-bodied embrace. Skin to skin, hugging every inch of yourself to him. He was warm, so real under your hands. You felt his tensing muscles relax at your actions, a light, shuddering breath leaving him as his arms wrapped around you. Like you were a lifeline. Being held in those arms felt nice, but being able to provide even a molecule of comfort for the poet felt nicer. You pressed a kiss to the side of his head, stroking those silken black locks gently. Someone had to protect this man, you knew that much. There was no way in hell you could leave this dimension after your mission, not now. You couldn’t know if you’d get a choice in the matter, but that wasn’t important. You would fight it if you had to.

_Forgive me, master._

“I wish I could go back and stop every bad thing that happened to you,” Your voice was soft in the space, soothing and gentle, “But I can’t. All I can do now is make sure it doesn’t happen going forward.”

He smiled against your skin, letting out a bemused huff.

“Not if I protect you first,” He said in a low, breathy tone, “You’re far too good for me, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back to press your forehead to his as you replied, “Let’s meet halfway and protect each other. And for your information, you don’t get to decide that I’m too good for you.”

He closed his eyes, letting out a low hum as he replied, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You smiled at that, leaning back and pressing a kiss to those soft lips. You pulled away before the two of you could get too distracted, knowing damn well anything more and you'd be wasting time rolling around on the floor with him again. Not that you minded the image, but there was already a day wasted by the incident previously—you didn’t want to slow his progress for the demon sword any longer. 

Speaking of which, you wanted to ask questions about said sword, since everyone but you seemed to know a ton about it. In your travels, you couldn’t recall happening upon any legendary objects, but a few missions had required you to search out some artifacts and magic stones. Having an all-powerful sword seemed a bit cliché, but then again, most things were in the long run. Hell, V himself was a black-haired, dark clothes wearing goth who read poetry regularly. You loved him dearly, but he was a walking cliché.  

You stood up from him, feeling bad when he sighed in disappointment but knowing one of you had to take the necessary steps to get ready. The blanket slipped from your shoulders when you stood, leaving yourself bare to him as you walked to the side of the room holding your clothes. Christ, you could feel his gaze burning into your back, eyeing your nudity. _Behave yourself,_ you kept mentally repeating, looking out the window at the world outside. Still broken, still desolate. The tree still loomed in the distance, ever present and foreboding. You scowled, wishing you could pop it out of existence. A hefty climb was coming, but if you could build your Void powers a bit it could make the trip faster.  

V came up behind you as you did so, hand resting on your shoulder as he too stared out at the tree. You saw his reflection in the glass, eyes hard as he took in the behemoth in the sky. He looked...tired, guilty. It was a strange look, one you didn’t understand. That resolve flashed back in his eyes, even when looking down at you made it waver just a bit.

You steeled yourself, knowing damn well there was a job to do and you shouldn’t be distracting the poet from it. You didn’t understand fully why he blamed himself for this catastrophe, but he did. That was written plainly on his face and in his actions. To be so driven forward with little caring for his own safety, pushing himself through whatever his ailments were...he was taking the burden of this mission on himself. And all you could do was hope to ease the strain.

“Let’s get ready,” You suggested, turning to face him with a smile. "Dawn is coming, so it would be good if we could get a head start.”

He met your gaze with those jade eyes, expression relaxing a bit at your own resolve to move forward. He nodded, that crooked smile tilting his lips as he stroked your hair, turning away to get dressed. You glanced at his backside only once when he did so, but it was a long look. Those tattoos extended over his back, just lightly touching where his ass began. Void be damned, he really was a beautiful man. Something in the way he carried himself was enchanting to you, mesmerizing. He was weakened, you could tell that much. But the purpose and determination in his gait gave him the energy of a jaguar when he walked. You just wished you could do more for him.

Still, you set about getting dressed, wincing a bit at the aching sensation in your thighs. You tried not to let V catch on to any discomfort, especially considering he played a part in it. You didn’t mind. The sun was just peaking over the horizon line when you finished lacing up your boots, gazing at the makeshift bed you and V had shared in the night. Part of you wanted to clean up a bit, make the church presentable before going despite there not being anyone there to see it. An old habit you guessed, common courtesy of sorts. Instead, you shoved a couple of the blankets into your backpack, not wanting to be without in case you and the others couldn’t find a good enough place to rest next time.  

You also turned to the alter, bowing your head and murmuring a prayer to your Deity before you had to set out. You had no idea if he was listening, or if he was upset, but it was something you felt like you had to do. He was the reason you were there, why you were alive, and despite doubts that truth remained. The whispers of the Void filled your ears as you did so, light and airy as the alter markings glowed. Whether that meant the Deity was listening or not, you didn’t know. But you could feel V watching you as you performed these actions, curiosity in his gaze as he respectfully didn’t bother you. It was needed, and appreciated.

Once you were finished with the spell, however, Griffon and Shadow suddenly burst forth from their master, forming from black dust into their appropriate forms. You let out a slow breath, knowing damn well Griffon had to be aching to say something about your actions in that night. You were prepared for that.

Sure enough, as soon as he stretched those mighty wings, his voice rang out in the church.

“Rise and shine, brats!” He squawked, landing on your shoulders and sending a gust of wind around you. He gazed around the room, his strange eyes immediately catching the sheets and bed mats left on the floor, “My my my...do my eyes deceive me or did you two do a little _misbehaving_ last night?”

His tone had several implications.

You smiled regardless, holding onto his talons as you stood again, “How are you feeling today, bird?”

“Just peachy, downright chipper...!” He chuckled in his typical, mischievous way, eyeing you from the side with an expression that was very knowing, “But I bet you’re doing even better. So, let’s cut to the chase, girlie—how was the fucking? Good? Great? Terrible? Does Shakespeare need a lesson on the birds and the bees? Trust me, I can cover the birds part.”

His pun was absolutely stupid, but it still took several moments of pause to stop yourself from laughing at it.

 _“Griffon.”_ V said in a simple, warning tone, pointing his cane at the demon on your shoulders. You were fighting a laugh, enjoying the way that muscle in V’s jaw twitched when he was annoyed. It was definitely one of his tells.

“Cool it, Shakespeare! Girlie and I are having a discussion," Griffon tilted one of his feet in a shooing motion, narrowing his eyes on the poet, "Gotta know if you were as terrible in bed as you are in battle.”

Your laughter finally broke out, echoing in the church as V sighed, turning away and pinching the bridge of his nose. You had to give it to him, he certainly was a patient man for putting up with the loud-mouth bird for this long. Still, you could tell this was Griffon’s off-kilter way of checking on you, making sure you were okay in the morning. His tail was swishing back and forth, a bit of a worried look in his eyes that faded once you started laughing. He didn't need to know about your nightmare, but his concern was touching regardless. Shadow was surveying the room, looking between you and the poet with their nose in the air. Yeah, everyone seemed to know something had happened in the night, which was fine with you. As for Nico and Nero, you hoped that they wouldn’t be able to tell when you finally saw them again.

Speaking of them, you and the poet needed to head out.

“Let’s get going,” You finally wheezed, giving Griffon’s talons another squeeze as your laughter settled, “And don’t worry Griffon. Everything was perfect.”

That made V flush visibly, the poet turning away before Griffon could notice. He started for the door, Shadow weaving around his feet cheerfully as he did so. Something about him being embarrassed was charming your socks off, that was for sure. You smiled, following after with a pep in your step.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Griffon huffed, snapping his beak by your ear as he mumbled just loud enough for you to hear, “I don’t want to imagine V’s skinny, naked ass doing anything in any capacity, so you are definitely a trooper, toots.”

You tapped his beak, clicking your tongue, “Don’t be mean.”

That made the bird chuckle again, raising his head and looking forward as V pushed open the church doors.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Said I had a new schedule and was immediately a day late. Forgive me, life has become hectic.

_Chapter 15 _

The sky was forgiving that day, at least for a little while.

Within an hour or so of walking, the sun was up and shining. It was cooler for a day in June, but it was perfect for the walking you needed to do with the poet. Something about the light glinting off his hair made you feel weak in the knees, but your steps didn’t falter. _Focused_ , you reminded yourself. Focus first, fun later when the job was done. You had no idea what this so-called Devil Sword looked like or where it could possibly be, but V seemed to know where he was going. Eyes ever forward, driven once again once you departed from the broken town. It was hard to describe where you were now, especially with the absolutely convoluted landscape. It felt like you were walking through a valley, but upon further inspection you could tell it was just the earth rising and following with the damage done. This was the base of the tree, where all the roots were.

And there were a lot of them. Roots extended above, weaving through the dirt and stone. Christ, this place was a mess. Barely any buildings, most structures torn apart by the demon tree and flung in various directions. Everything seemed lifeless, grey. Even more so once the clouds came back, casting a discolored feeling all over the dead plants and stony ground beneath your feet. Despite the pallor of the world around, you were keeping yourself in high spirits. Walking alongside the poet and keeping up conversation with him, making sure to keep an eye on his condition. You had eaten breakfast with him, summoning some minor food for everyone including meat for the familiars. All in all, you were prepared for anything and everything.  

Another day of travel and fighting, it would seem.

You didn’t mind, per se. But this area was full of baddies you weren’t particularly fond of. You passed graveyards, fighting the typical rough and tumble variety demons with the usual ease you had with V. You were getting your momentum back energy wise, testing your limits a bit more with each hour to see what could stick. No Void walking yet, but soon. You could feel that. Along this path you tried to keep your eyes out for shrines of any sort, since it was areas like these that would hide them. But you found none, and that made you sigh. This felt similar to when a parent was mad at you, that you were sure of. You couldn’t quite decide whether you saw the Deity as a father or not, or a mother for that matter. But you doubted it mattered.          

At some point V stopped at a cliff side, staring out at a different piece of land in the distance. He held out his arm, Griffon summoning on it before launching out over the crevice. Scouting ahead, it would seem. You could barely make out a building with a broken dome ceiling, what looked to be demons around it moving sporadically. Were they...dancing? Sure looked like it, in their own creepy, demonic way. You crouched down by the cliff, warily eyeing the abyss below with a frown. You hoped that once the tree righted itself the earth would settle accordingly and become full of life again. The Qliphoth seemed to kill anything within a certain radius, which made you fear for innocent creatures and animals caught in the crossfire. Would it kill them as well? You hadn’t seen a single squirrel or anything since arriving in this area, not even a stray cat. Mind you, human death was still just as awful and important. It just all seemed...wrong.

In the meantime, Griffon came soaring back. He looked a bit huffy and confused, shaking out his feathers with a concerned trill as he landed back on the poet’s arm.

“What’s good, bird?” You asked, standing up and stretching a bit.  

He let out a low squawk, eyeing you and the poet with concern and hesitation in his gaze.  

V let out a light hum, furthering prompting the demonic bird as he added to your question in that smooth purr, “Did you find it?”  

 _It._ The Devil Sword Sparda, surely.

“Uhhh well,” Griffon said in a hesitant tone, flapping his wings a bit and sending a couple feathers dropping down, “I don’t know what I found, but...I think I saw demons dancing...?” The way he trailed off made the reply sound like a question despite him being the only one who saw the spectacle up close.

That made V smile, his expression bemused and slightly satisfied with this answer, “Well, then I guess we keep going,” He lifted his cane, catching the base of it firmly in his hand as he continued, "The Devil Sword Sparda is nearby.”

Could he sense the sword’s presence? You weren’t getting anything. Sensing demonic energy at its root wasn’t something you could do. Danger and hidden enemies? That you could definitely get a read on due to the Foresight. For whatever reason, when it came to the Devil Sword it got...nothing. Like there was interference, static. It made you wonder what kind of creature Sparda was, and what kind of power this sword had. According to V, Dante was able to wield it, but he sounded hesitant about himself. Griffon mentioned as you walked something about being “strong in mind and body”, which he was convinced V was not. Why was that? V seemed pretty strong willed to you at least, but there was always this sense of guilt and tiredness to him as well. He still moved forward, still seemed set on the task.

Regardless.

You walked alongside the poet, spinning one of Griffon’s blue feathers in your fingers as you did so.

“I can’t get a read on that sword at all,” You said to him, tone a little wistful, “Who was this person anyway? The one the sword is named for.”

V let out a low hum at your question, giving his cane a spin and eyes staring forward, “Sparda, the demon lord,” His tone was a smooth purr, but there was a far-away look in his eyes, “He was a powerful creature. Rumored to be closer to a God in terms of power than a demon.”

You let out a little huff, a bit of clarity reaching you, “Might be why I can’t sense it. Some God power and Deity powers don’t mesh with others.” You knew your Deity was notorious for not playing well with others. He wasn’t viewed as an official god in any capacity, a creature that existed on neither end of the spectrum. It unsettled a lot of higher ups, not to mention the Void was a place no one understood. They would not interact, that was for certain.  

V let out a low hum, side-eyeing you with a quirk of his lovely mouth, “Perhaps. Although, you are no demon. And I can just barely sense it.”

You nodded, giving him a light smile as you both continued forward. You were hoping to at least see the sword, though you still felt a little uneasy considering everyone’s warnings about it. You tried to shake that feeling, trudging into the new area and making sure to focus on your surroundings a bit more.

The landscape just became more and more warped as you went along, slabs of stone and rock dotting the path like it was nothing. You and the poet had to stop and fight something big and ugly along the way, watching it knock a stone bridge and coming to a sliding halt. It had looked like a monster wrapped in chains, and upon braking the chains two huge, tongue-like appendages had come out of its mouth. Well, that wasn't the strangest thing you had ever seen, right? It had been an annoying fight, one that had lasted longer than you liked. Too much jumping around, too much dodging. The thing was fast and you didn’t want to risk anyone getting slammed with its tongues. But your group managed, and V killed it with his usual flourish as he hoped off its back.

“Guys,” You sighed, rotating one shoulder and stretching the next instant, “I’ve decided this area is not fun.”

Griffon let out a loud snort, flying around and landing on your shoulders in his usual way, “This area? You said that about the last few.”

“Now you’re catching on,” You smirked, patting Griffon on the side of the beak, “Use that big brain, Griffon. Seeing a pattern yet?”

“Hardy har. Shucks, one would think you hate fighting demons!” Griffon rolled his strange eyes, tone heavy with sarcasm.

V chuckled lightly at your banter, tapping his silver cane on the ground as his jade gaze met yours. He looked a bit tired, but he told you along the way not to expend the energy to help him unless absolutely necessary. You wanted to respect that, but it made you nervous.

“I’d have to agree,” He hummed, a slight breeze making his hair wave around his face, “The demons in this area are less than satisfactory.”

You walked up to him, brushing some dust off his shoulders with a light sigh.

“We’re at the bottom of the tree, so it makes sense,” You shrugged, eyes tilting up to gaze at the ugly monstrosity filling the sky, “It’s going to be even worse in there, so we had better be prepared.”

V nodded once in agreement. One of his hands lifted to stroke your face, thumb sliding over your cheekbone. The action made you flush a bit.

“And what of you, Sparrow?” He murmured, looking at you from under his long lashes, “How are you feeling after such...vigorous activities?” Did he mean the sex at night, or the demons? The mystery alone was scandalous and sexy

That made you smile ruefully, taking his hand and giving it a light kiss. You thought you heard Griffon fake a gag, but you ignored him. He could tease all he wanted now, that cat was out of the bag. So why should you hesitate to do anything you wanted? Shadow didn’t seem to mind your actions, sitting at your feet with their bright red eyes looking between you and V. Sometimes you were glad that Shadow was a silent familiar, you couldn’t imagine taking the banter from both sides. Griffon was your friend and you loved him, but he was just enough for you to put up with. As for nightmare? You didn’t talk to the creature enough to form an opinion on him. Which was a shame, you liked seeing Nightmare fight in battle.

Shaking your wandering thoughts, you looked back at V.

“I’m doing better,” You replied, holding his slender fingers between your own, “Each time we fight my resistance grows. My power is like a muscle I have to stretch, so the more I stretch it the more I can take.”

That made him look curious, his eyes drifting over your form.

“Are you able to do more than we’ve seen?” He asked, “More of the incident with the black crystal.”

You winced at mention of that, but nodded, “In theory, if I trained enough I could do that without summoning my Deity, and without straining myself.”

It was the truth, because you remembered times where you could. Hell, one of your missions after learning the way your power worked, you became an absolute power house. The longer the mission, the better you got. The Deity definitely laid things out like that, making it so that you had a higher rate of success the longer it took. You didn’t know how you felt about that, but something about having that much power had always left a strange feeling of unease inside you. Like you were too connected with the Void. It left a disconnect in your body, like instead of a person you were a vessel for something...bigger. You never liked the feeling, and generally let that sensation die for a month or so to not get swallowed up. In retrospect...you wondered if that’s what the Deity went through to become so in tune with the Void?

Some mysteries couldn’t be answered by mere theorizing.

“I’m going to assume it comes with downsides,” V said with a low grunt, eyeing you with a wary gaze. Yeah, he still wasn’t over the incident from before, that was for sure, “And I expect you will inform me of them.”

You smiled brightly, but inside you were practically screaming. If only he knew that your power was one hundred percent downsides all the time. Oh yes, there was a turmoil inside you now, face luckily not betraying the raging knowledge that you were withholding things from him, which was bad after agreeing not to. If he knew that every time you flared the energy it was painful, borderline excruciating, he would never let you use it again. You were used to the pain, so you weren’t going to stop using it. It took god damn years to cultivate the energy of the Void, and the sacrifices for it were more than worth it in regards to keeping people safe. Pain was such a strange thing to you, something you just dealt with and normalized. Never talking about it, chin up and eyes forward. Minus when facing those punishments from deals made with the Deity, because that...was on another level.

_Regardless._

“Don’t worry, building up power is safer for me than staying weak,” You replied to him, even knowing your previous doubts, “Less chances of exertion.”

He gave a light nod, leaning forward to press a light kiss to yours. Your heart immediately set off in a frenzy, cheeks flushed and warm. Being able to kiss each other when you wanted felt so nice, natural. Like you two were just a romantic couple on a stroll for the day. Unfortunately, you had an audience, one who was perched on you as a matter of fact. Griffon made another disgusted sound, hopping off your shoulders to put some distance between himself and the public display of affection. But you were sure he chuckled a little too, mischief in his tone as he swept around and eyed the two of you. Did he look pleased? You were almost positive there was satisfaction in his avian features.

V sighed at his reaction, pulling back with a rueful expression on his face. He stared at you for a moment, making you blink as you tried to get a read on his gaze. What...was that emotion? It flickered by so fast, but the poet was turning before you had a chance to ask him. You paused, mouth opening a bit as he started forward again, cane in hand. Driven once more. But you had seen something there in his gaze, something that made you uneasy. It...had looked like pain, something agonizing. Akin to realization, but not quite that either, closer to desperation. It made your heart pound, a worried sensation settling over you, one that you couldn’t push away. There couldn’t be something wrong, the Foresight would have warned you. It was calm, giving no indication of things heading down the wrong path. It was how it should be.

Right?

You swallowed the sensation and followed after him. Maybe you were just anxious, seeing things that weren’t there. After all, V grasped your hand as soon as you caught up. No hesitation, his hand so warm and skin smooth. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, but he wore that neutral, bemused smile again. He was so hard to read, his handsome face full of secrets that you didn’t understand. Things he would hopefully share as you went along. You tried to shake the feeling, the nagging part of your brain that had read something that wasn’t there. You were there with him, that was what mattered. He still replied when you spoke, discussing things along the way and filling you in on all that you had missed. The gaps in Nero’s story.

You were curious about Dante, the infamous demon hunter everyone was so fixated on. Griffon and V were debating on if he had survived or not—he was apparently a half-demon himself. Absolutely wild. If Urizen had killed him, no one was really sure what they should do, but V seemed convinced Nero was the answer. He brought up the boy several times, referring to him as exactly that. “The boy”, like he was somehow older and wiser. It confused you, especially since V seemed pretty young himself. It made you kind of feel bad for looking at Nero as a kid too, there was just something young and boyish about him. The part of you that liked taking care of people worried about the guy, especially since he grew up without parents or family. Everyone needed somebody, right?

“You really think Nero will be able to kill Urizen?” You asked, hoping into what looked to be a broken series of catacombs. It made you wince, mind flashing back to the sewers at the sight of the dank, dreary walls, “I don’t doubt him, but that’s a lot of danger to put one guy through.”

“Nero should be able to wield the Devil Sword,” V replied, jade eyes dark in the new area as he stared forward, “He was always my insurance policy, the one to rely on when Dante failed. I had hoped that I wouldn’t have to do so, but Urizen is...far worse than we imagined.”

His response made you sigh, nose scrunching up as you passed skulls built into the walls.

“I get that,” You hummed in reply, but you still didn’t know how to feel about it, “Just remember his safety comes first. Everyone’s safety comes first, including yours.”

“ _And_ yours.” Griffon and V quipped at the same time, exchanging a glance with each other. Wow. That had to be the first time you had seen them that in sync, which was hilarious in your opinion. Their concern was appreciated, and you had to admit to yourself that you would always put their safety before your own, no matter what. Not that you’d ever say that out loud. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, yeah? You chuckled, giving V’s hand a firm squeeze and entwining your fingers as you banished the misbehaving thought.

“I appreciate the support, boys,” You smiled, eyes bright and cheerful now as V’s gaze met yours, “I’ll make sure to focus on my safety.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, right? At least you hoped so.  

V let out a pleased sound, leaning down to press his lips to your silken hair. His breath was warm, brushing over you as he kissed the top of your head. Christ, you felt like you could faint when he did things like that, on the brink of swooning. Somehow this made you flush more than the lewd things, your cheeks warm and heart fluttering like a caged bird. A sparrow, if you wanted to get super specific. You sighed in contentment, bringing his fingers to your lips as you kissed them again. How you wished the two of you could find somewhere safe and warm to just...rest. No worries, no demons to fight. A day where you could wake up in a bed, and lie there till noon. Domestic things, ones you used to take for granted.

Griffon gagged again at your actions, swooping by and saying loudly, “Get a room, lovebirds. You’re killing me with this kissy, touchy shit. I fear for my virgin eyes.”

“Virgin eyes?” You and V chorused together in disbelieving tones, you turning to raise a brow at the loud-mouthed bird.

Griffon landed on a nearby piece of rubble, huffing lightly as he narrowed his golden eyes on you.

“You’re missing the point here,” He said in a haughty tone, raising his demonic beak in the air as he continued, “You and Shakespeare can’t keep your hands off each other. What will the humans think?”

Humans—he had to be referring to Nero, Nico, and Lady.

You crossed your arms, hearing V let out a low, deep sigh as he gave you a long-suffering look. You shared the sentiment, but in a way the bird had a point. You and V weren’t on your best behavior, that was for sure. Emotions were high and heady, unable to be ignored. The idea of Nico and the others seeing V kissing you and holding your hand...well, you had no idea what they would think, or what they would say. Maybe that the apocalypse was neither the time nor place for romance? They would be right if that was the case, but Nero was a guy in love. You hoped he would at least partially understand, and you had fuzzy memories of Nico saying V needed to get laid. And Lady threatening to kill him if he hurt you. To be honest, those details were a bit sketchy considering the alcohol.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we reach it,” V replied before you could, passing by the bird with a light tilt of his mouth, “Do you intend to sit there all day? We do have a sword to find.”

Griffon rolled his eyes, flapping his wings and soaring ahead as he grumbled, “Calm your tits, Shakespeare. I’m not the one stopping to smooch every five minutes.”

You smiled brightly, walking alongside V and Shadow as you called to him, “I can kiss and walk.”

“Can you suck cock and walk too?” Griffon’s voice echoed back, tone heavily sarcastic, “Then I’d be really impressed.”

“Is that a challenge?” You clasped your hands behind your back, smiling mischievously when V cleared his throat. He was looking a little hot around the collar at the topic. He was so easy to make flustered, which was incredibly adorable. It was too dark to tell, but you were sure there was color in those cheeks of his. Teasing him was so fun, though you were certain you wouldn’t be sucking his dick in these catacombs—you refused to do anything sexual in such a disgusting place. There were dead bodies and skulls everywhere, so it wasn’t really your ideal place for romance. In fact, you couldn’t wait to leave.

“Live in mystery,” V said simply, a bit of a warning in his tone as his jade eyes glanced at you. Though you could tell he was fighting amusement. Those full lips of his were having a hard time holding that displeased look even as he added, “We have ground to cover.”

You blew him a kiss, skipping forward and pinching his butt as you passed by. It made him jolt a bit, a surprised grunt escaping him and face flushing a lot more noticeably now.

“Yes _sir._ ” You purred at him, turning back to give him a sweet smile. Something about calling him “sir" felt very scandalous, and he wasn’t oblivious to that. His eyes narrowed at you, a bit of hunger in his gaze as he eyed you in the dark. Was he gripping that cane tighter? Looked like it.

Still, you all pressed forward. The journey through the catacombs? Less than stellar, that was for sure. It was crawling with demons, as was all things around the Qliphoth tree. This area brought forth a new demon type, one that quite frankly set your teeth on edge. Spectral creatures with giant scissors, lunging with attacks that could easily cut you in half, which wasn’t ideal in the slightest. How did these demons come up with their attacks and weapons of choice? Despite the danger, attacking like they did was highly impractical. You managed to wrap your tendrils around the scissors when they lunged, snapping them closed and leaving them defenseless. It was up to V and the others to pummel them into submission and eventual death. Even so, traveling through took much longer than expected when you had to stop and fight every few minutes.

“Hey V?” You asked in between the fighting, letting out a low huff as the Void energy settled inside, “Can I ask you a few things?”

He was in the process of putting his book away as you spoke, a hint of surprise in those jade eyes as he met your gaze.

“...Certainly, Sparrow.” He murmured after some pause, gripping the head of his cane and leaning his weight on it. He seemed a bit tired, but he hadn’t said anything to you yet.

Frustrating, but you kept walking with him.

V seemed to want to keep up the momentum, but he seemed oddly...torn. Contradictory. Driven one second then stopping the next to hold your hand, resting on a piece of rubble and talking in that low voice of his. You talked about his home town that you were, technically, still walking through. He seemed a lot less reluctant to open up today, which made you feel warmer already. You were devastated to find out how young he was when his mother died—just eight years old. Too young to go through something that traumatic. He wouldn’t tell you all that had happened, you could tell he was omitting things. That was fine, he wasn’t required to tell you all he had been through. That was his choice to make. Through it all you listened and watched his face, still holding his hand and squeezing it when he paused, unable to find his words.

“What happened...when your mother died? Where did you go?” You asked him softly, pulling your legs up and crossing them. Griffon landed on your shoulders as you did so, Shadow putting their head between your legs and V’s. The bird was listening quietly, but he didn’t seem surprised, like he knew of this story and all it entailed. How long had V been with the three familiars? It would have made you feel better if you knew V had the trio looking out for him as a child, it was at least something. Still, growing up without parents was just...unfair. Where was V’s father, and who was he? That was the one detail V left out, he seemed pretty focused on his mother over all. You could tell that he felt guilty about her death, it was plain on his face. But his father...where was he?

“I...” V let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair, “I did what I had to survive. I learned. I trained.”

He kept it very vague. You could understand why.

You nodded along with his words, watching Shadow’s tail sway back and forth, “Desperate times call for desperate measures I suppose,” A sad smile graced your lips, eyes darting up to meet his, “What was your mother’s name?”

V let out a low hum, gripping the head of his cane with his free hand and tracing lines on your palm with the other, “...Eva. Her name was Eva,” He closed his eyes in thought, a soft huff leaving him as he added, “She would have loved you. That, I’m sure of. “

That made your heart pound, like you were held in high regard.

“What was she like?” You asked, trying to hide how good his compliment felt. You wanted to know who this woman was, a person who gave birth to someone so important to you.

“Kind...thoughtful. A good mother.” He said simply, though you could see his face was hiding something. It made you blink, eyes going soft as you tried to decipher his emotions a bit. No luck this time, there was no cracking that poker face. He seemed attached to his mother, you could tell that much, so why did that sentence sound so...hesitant? Like he was unsure, or lonely sounding?

“She sounds like a good person,” You murmured, rubbing the toe of your boot into the ground when you stretched out your legs, “Though I have to ask, where is your father? Or did he pass away too?”

V’s mouth tilted in a small smirk, a faraway look in his eyes as he scoffed, “Something like that.”

You opened your mouth to question what he meant when the catacombs shook a bit, some rubble settling nearby. It made V grunt, pulling himself to his feet and gripping his cane. You immediately did the same, shaking off some dust and staring at him with concern. The way his tone sounded when he said that little quip was strange, and you couldn’t understand what he meant. Something like that. Maybe his father was absent, or maybe he didn’t know the guy at all? Both were pretty awful things to deal with, but there was something else there was well in his gaze. A... wistfulness. Regret. Reverence. It didn’t look like he was entirely without knowledge, like there was a joke in that comment you were missing. There was history here, something that you weren’t a part of.  

But V didn’t seem in the mood to elaborate anymore. He gestured with his cane to you, starting forward again and leisurely brushing a bit of dust of his shoulder. You stifled a sigh, hurriedly following after and just tucking the question away for later. Quick as he opened up, closed just as quick. You told yourself that there was no need to push things, especially when opening up seemed hard for him to do already. Taking things easy, letting it come slow. The connection between you two was still a tender thing, but it still felt strong and steady. You doubted V let just anyone in or close, so that alone made you grateful to get those small bits of info. So, you bit your tongue, letting out a low huff and watching his back shift and move as he walked. There was always more time to talk, right? You weren’t going anywhere even when the god damn tree was gone. There were so many things to learn, so much to discover about each other.

Griffon seemed to sense your exasperation, letting out a light trill in your ear as he shook off some of your hair.

“Don’t mind Shakespeare, he’s a closed book,” He hissed lightly, just loud enough for you to hear, “Mommy dearest is a touchy subject. Shocked he even said anything.”

You sighed a bit, wrapping your fingers around his talons and squeezing a bit.

“Don’t worry, I’m patient,” You told him quietly, eyeing the poet with some fondness, “Besides, we’ve got plenty of time to figure things out.”

Griffon went quiet at that, which was pretty uncharacteristic of him. You blinked, that little anxious voice in the back of your head screaming to life in an instant. Something wasn’t right. But that didn’t make any sense, at least you hoped? Your Foresight was calm, swirling inside and not hinting at anything bad. But...something wasn’t adding up in your head. You stared at the bird from the Corner of your eye, but he still said nothing. There was something in his gaze—a meaningful stare, a nervous one. Like he wanted to tell you something, but couldn’t. And that only added to the foreboding feeling. There was no way the Deity wouldn’t inform you if something was wrong, that you were sure of. So, you tried to chalk it up to anxiety, maybe miscommunication? But you would be observant as always, on your toes and ready for anything.

There was still so much to do, and so much to focus on. Your group made it out of the catacombs within the hour, the earth still just as broken and desolate as you remembered it. Yikes, that tree looked even uglier the closer you got to it. Broken, shattered buildings were everywhere, the Qliphoth roots woven through out. Your Foresight was already warning you of demons in this area, and you could see some in the distance even as it swirled inside. That dome building was coming ever closer, giant, menacing thorn brambles plowing through it and meeting at a bundle of red, bulbous buds. Another thing to be destroyed. These demons were new too, gangling creatures with misshapen bodies and bulbous eyes attached to limbs. You winced at the sight of them, your Foresight curling into a burning ball in your chest and spider-webbing out in heavy pain. Yikes, those didn’t look fun.

V put his cane out to stop everyone, eyeing the creatures with a slightly bemused look as they continued their little dance. You saw his jade gaze traveling upwards, and followed with it. There, sticking out of the building.

Your eyes widened at what had to be the Devil Sword Sparda. A massive blade, woven with what looked to be demonic flesh with a long hilt. It was curved, glinting menacingly even in the grey light of the clouds. There was no mistaking that. It had “Devil Sword” written all over it, and it explained why the demons were acting sporadically. Dancing under the blade, like they were worshiping it. V’s words of Sparda being closer to a god seemed a lot more solid now, since these creatures certainly seemed to think so. You tried to get a feel for the energy of the blade, eyeing it with curiosity and wariness. The Void power swirled a bit when you did, definitely not liking your actions.  

You couldn’t help but wonder if your Deity ever met Sparda? The man definitely liked meeting other higher beings, seeing how they reacted to him. But you doubted you could ever ask for that kind of information.

“Is that the sword?” You asked V for confirmation, crouching down behind a piece of debris while he leaned against the wall, “It definitely looks like a devil sword.”

“Sure fucking is,” Griffon hissed before V could open his mouth, eyes alight with interest as he eyed the hefty blade, “I’ll be damned. Flung all the way down the Qliphoth to here, landing nice and neat.”

V let out a low hum of agreement, gripping his cane tighter as he pushed off from the wall. You immediately blinked at his confident gait forward, ignoring all the danger with those eyes set on the prize. God damn it, not again. When he went into focused mode, there was no stopping him. You just hoped this time things wouldn’t turn out like the horseman incident; your heart definitely couldn’t take it. So, you stood as well, rushing to catch up with him and summoning the power of the Void. It burned in your lungs, releasing a cold cloud of icy breath into the air as your tendrils snuck into the ground around the creatures. You at least wanted to be somewhat tactical, if no one else was.  

“You’re lucky you’re a pretty boy,” You muttered under your breath to V as he hopped up some rubble, eyeing the creatures with a bemused stare, “Because this reckless shit you do would usually earn you a spanking.”

That made his mouth quirk into a grin, the poet in good spirits now as he tilted that tantalizing gaze onto you, “Now now, Sparrow. Don’t make promises you won’t keep.”  

That made you pop a brow up, steps faltering a bit as you stared at him, “Did you just admit a kink to me?”

“Guess you’ll have to find out,” He chuckled mischievously, “Let’s take that as motivation to not die, shall we?”

You were simply flabbergasted, blinking at him with a mixture of surprise and intrigue on your face. What could you even say to that?

Griffon flew by you, letting out an annoyed groan. You forgot he was there for a moment, but he most certainly heard that whole exchange. He threw you a disgusted look your way, rolling his eyes back into skull as he whooshed by you.

“Can you two can the flirting for five minutes so we can get the god damn sword?” He hissed, approaching the demons with Shadow prowling behind him.

You hated to say it. But Griffon was, once again, correct.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's keep this going, loves <3 Finally getting to some more fun stuff. If you wanna seem some spicy headacanons check my tumblr spirit-of-the-void <3

_**Chapter 16 ** _

V approached the dancing demons with the confidence of a jaguar.  

You had seen this look in his eyes before. That crooked smirk, the tilt of his head, his observing jade gaze with a hint of amusement. Their display of devotion was almost comedic to the poet, that much you could tell. He was driven again, focus back on the mission at hand. Christ, he was a handful. You couldn’t blame him for that considering the object your group was seeking was absolutely within reach. Part of you was tempted to grab it with your tendrils, but you weren’t sure how the demons would react. They were so focused on the sword, bodies turning and writhing in rhythms you didn’t understand. How dancing for this sword would benefit them was beyond you, but it didn’t seem relevant at that moment.

They barely reacted when V approached, despite the fact that the tap of his cane was pretty damn obvious. It hit the ground in a satisfying metallic sound, the demons barely even twitching even as their bulbous eyes swirled around to look at him.

Gross, very gross. You winced, tendrils already waiting just an inch under the ground to burst out and attack when needed. The ground felt strangely...disgusting? Where you were standing the Earth was dry and cracked, like the tree was sucking every ounce of nutrition from the landscape and leaving nothing but a husk behind. But you could feel the ground growing oddly soft and moist, disgustingly so as your tendrils made their home in the dirt. You hated being able to feel what they touched, but that was beside the point.  

Focus first, make this fight short and easy so you and V could catch up with Nero. You were still worried about him heading up the tree by himself, and even more worried at the prospect of him facing Urizen on his own again. He was a cocky, hot-headed brat with a chip on his shoulder in regards to the mission. Like he had something to prove, and people with things to prove tended to do stupid shit. As for Nero, he was bouncing with dumbass energy waiting to be spent, which made for a bad combination with the whole “dead weight” thing that kept making him mad.

But that was another thing to focus on when you got to it. There were enemies to fight.

Griffon flew past you and the poet towards the demons, seeming just as cocky as his master as his strange, triple-iris gaze passed over them. You knew he was going to say something taunting before he even opened his demonic beak.

“Whoa, this is some kind of ritual shindig, isn’t it?” He caroled mockingly, tone filled with mirth as he swept around the creatures, “You guys got the dance fever for Sparda, dontcha?”

You half expected the creatures to keep ignoring the bird and your group, but they didn’t. They immediately swept around at his words, turning what looked to be golden masks attached to their flesh. Spitting and hissing, like enraged beasts. No longer dancing, it would seem. In attack mode now, their feet stepping closer in the blood all of the ground. Christ, now that you looked at it, the ground was coated in pools of the red liquid, the smell very foul and strong as you fought retching. That’s what you were feeling before, when your tendrils were traveling through the ground—part of you had thought it was somehow residual traces from the rain, but the reality was far more unpleasant. The cracked, thirsting Earth was soaked with blood like a sponge, aching for moisture of any kind.

Griffon seemed taken aback by the creature’s response to his taunting, leaning back in-air and letting out a low huff.

“Whoa, easy on the dance floor there, partner...!” He swept back around, yellow eyes sizing up the demons with wariness and bemusement.

V took a few steps forward, that smooth smirk on his own lips. He lifted his cane, pointing it up at the Devil Sword Sparda high in the area. Lodged in that building, just waiting to be taken.

“I’ll be taking _that_ back,” V’s voice was like a purr, yet firm and decided. It left little room for argument, mouth smirking cockily as he turned to face the demons again. Lord, he was something else. He tapped that silver cane in his hand as he walked, like he was readying it for a spanking as he continued smoothly, “You know your endless worshiping isn’t making Sparda... _any_ happier.”

The demons definitely didn’t like that, letting out reverbed shrieking as their limbs twitched and spasmed in rage. You took their distraction as your opportunity, sending your tendrils shooting up out of the ground into their legs and bodies. 

Immediately, they reared back, echoing snarls and screams of rage echoing through the broken landscape. V immediately set his familiars into battle, Griffon swooping past your head with an elated cackle. You swept a hand over Shadow’s back as they ran past you, enjoying the smooth feeling of their fur before darting into the battle yourself. You had done damage to the demons, but not enough to down them all yet. Still, you wretched a few back, trying to put some distance between them and the poet pulling out his book. Christ, they were heavier than they looked, consisting of so much flesh and cracking bone.  

You concentrated, that burning pain spreading from your chest to your limbs as a huff of cold air left you. You kept by V, listening to his smooth voice as he recited another poem. You two were in sync now—as he moved, you moved. Smooth and fluid, like water as you matched his pace and watched his back. It almost felt like a dance to you, and he was the one in the lead. Through you got the feeling that was going to be hard to keep up considering the enemy type. They were fast, unpredictable with lurching movements and swift attacks. Though Shadow and Griffon seemed to be taking a lot of the agro, the bird swooping down in a flurry of lightning attacks that made the creatures snarl and spit like mad. Shadow’s morphing ability was truly amazing—watching the mighty cat turn into a flurry of spinning blades and harsh attacks was incredible, and very deadly.

You saw a few eyeballs bounce off of the demon they were attacking, almost hoping toward you and the poet as the irises rolled and spun. You immediately suspected something bad, pulling yourself and V back with your tendrils and impaling the eyes with other ones. They exploded as soon as you did, sending out shrapnel and spikes like a god damn bomb. You and the goth just barely got out of the way, so you tucked into your brain the knowledge that those should definitely not be touched. How disgusting. These demons were of a particularly gross variety, the eyeballs dripping and diseased looking and their bodies absolutely no better.  

Still, you pressed on, attacking with all the tricks you could think of to help the demonic familiars. Blood was sloshing all around as the opposing creatures scrambled and slid, trying to fight back with everything they had. Desperation fueled and frantic, they swept a gangling arm toward you, making you rear back and roll to avoid it. A bad idea, especially considering all the blood on the ground in those puddles. You were immediately coated with it in several places, the least favorite being your hair. It dripped down from your locks as you steadied yourself, making you groan with disgust and gag.

V immediately darted to your side, snapping his book closed so he could lend a hand to help you up. Your hand was slippery with blood, a bright contrast to V’s pale skin as he tugged you up to him.

“V,” You said in a complaining tone, pulling back your hand with a rueful expression. He eyed his own palm with a smirk, flicking his fingers to remove some of the thick fluid, “If I had the words to express my disgust right now, I would say them. But I don’t.”

He chuckled apologetically, smoothing some of the blood off your face with his thumb as he replied, “But you look so _ravishing_ in red, sparrow.”

You made an obviously disgusted face, making him chuckle openly as you tried to focus on the battle again. You both were lucky Griffon and Shadow were keeping things spicy while you got up. It looked like the bird had latched onto the demon that tried to attack you, yanking it back with the help of Shadow while you situated yourself. Very kind of the bird. You decided to wait till the battle was over to clean your body, because you got the feeling you’d be rolling a few more times before the fight was done. Fuck, though. That shower you had the pleasure of getting seemed pretty damn far away now, despite your ability to cleanse yourself. It wouldn’t feel the same as that lovely sensation of being squeaky clean, skin warmed by a shower spray. You sighed, feeling wistful but knowing more chances would come. You could live with feeling gross until then.

V let out a low hum as he surveyed the battle, snapping his fingers and sending his black hair to white. A portal opened in the next instant, Nightmare rolling out with a heavy thud and landing right on one of the creatures. Yeah, you were going to assume it was dead after that. The familiar stood, looking around with that swirling eye and raising its massive arms. You immediately got ready to dodge, knowing damn well his laser attacks could easily hit you if you weren’t careful. Sure enough, he shot a beam out in the next instant, laying waste to the demons with a crackle of energy and fire. Surprisingly, V grabbed you by the waist before you could leap away, Griffon yanking you both up and depositing you on Nightmare’s back. The bird huffed a bit at the strain, but seemed able to lift you easier now. Why was that? You hadn’t gotten any lighter, that was for sure.

Regardless, you landed lightly on Nightmare with a gasp of surprise. Unsure of where to put your hands, not sure what to make of the situation. Nightmare made no indication that the change bothered him, but then again you doubted he could talk. He was big, it was like sitting up on a balcony and staring out at a bloodied battle field. You gazed down at his body in awe, hands resting on one of his shoulders as he continued his attack on the twitching and spasming demons. Christ, how to describe what Nightmare felt like? It was odd, his fluidity was constantly in motion yet oddly solid. He had mass, but also held the sensation of a swirling bundle of tar and energy. It was...amazing. V chuckled at your absolutely fascinated expression, probably already guessing how floored you were to be able to at least touch this familiar once.

He was in his usual position of pressing his cane to the creature’s back, his other hand holding your back steady. You wrapped a couple tendrils around Nightmare to hold on, hoping you weren’t hindering him in any way.  

“You two havin’ fun up there while we do all the work?” Griffon squawked as he zoomed past, sending your hair flying up a bit as you darted your gaze to him, “This ain’t no leisurely stroll in the park...!”

You let out a sigh at his accusatory tone, sending your tendrils into the ground all around you and slicing at the attacking demon’s legs, “Sorry Griffon. I just got distracted for a second.” A very long second.

The bird chuckled in response, wings flapping powerfully as he swept down past Shadow, the mighty cat releasing a mighty roar at a demon. They were near death now, you could tell that much. Which was V’s cue to bounce.

He leapt off of Nightmare, leaving you to hop up on one of the creature’s shoulders to watch him finish the demons off. Tendrils at the ready to stop any last-minute attacks—you had learned from the horseman incident. You sat down, eyeing Nightmare a bit for a moment to see if the creature minded. You saw the big eye roll over to glance at you, but the creature gave no indication of any kind. Instead he started walking forward, seeming to tread carefully as not to sway too much as he approached V killing the remaining demons. Christ, the poet was graceful. He spun, killing the first, then the next, then the next. Like a dancer, his movements were beautiful and precise. For the last creature he skewered its eye on his cane, twirling it leisurely before slamming it into the demon’s head. How the thing didn’t explode like the others, you didn’t know. Maybe it was because the demon was near death?

That, luckily, left the battle at a and blissful end. You smiled once at Nightmare, giving his head a light, tentative pat before hopping off. The familiar made no sound, but his head tilted a bit after you dislodged yourself, his body dispersing again and returning to V’s white hair, making it black once more. That was definitely fun. You felt accomplished, like you made some progress with the companion you knew the least about. Nightmare was big, with arms good for hugging so you were determined to do that at some point. You had no idea how the creature would take it, but considering you were willing to lose a hand to pet Shadow you were more than up to the danger. V definitely wouldn’t like that. But he definitely wouldn’t let one of his familiars hurt you either.

Griffon landed on your shoulders, shaking out his feathers as he too watched Nightmare take his leave for the time being. He seemed amused.

“Are you seriously that determined to win over all of us?” He huffed, beak brushing the side of your face as he spoke, "You do realize not everyone needs to be your friend, right?"

You shrugged, giving his head a light scratch. He immediately let out a relaxed trill, leaning into the touch. Like putty in your hands, he talked big but he was secretly aching for affection too.

“Never stopped me before,” You replied to him, tone leaving zero room for argument, “So it’s not going to stop me now. I mean, it worked with you, didn’t it?”

Griffon let out a chuckle, opening one eye lazily to look at you, “Are you implying that I’m easy?”

You smiled, “Nope. Just saying I’m happy you’re my friend.”

“Awww, shit. You trying to butter me up, toots? It’s working.” Griffon puffed out his feathers proudly, his eyes watching as V started toward the bundle of Qliphoth blood he seemed determined to destroy.

You took the time to clean the blood and muck off of you, content in watching V’s shoulders roll as he lifted his cane, stabbing it into the bundle of red flesh with a low grunt of exertion. He seemed...very tired, struggling a bit today. You were noticing it especially so after this fight. He sounded out of breath just from doing this simple task, which wasn’t a good sign. You weren’t going to wait to give him energy this time, since he clearly wasn’t going to ask for it. But before you could summon the tendrils, he yanked his cane back from the roots, stumbling a bit and staring up at the building. A low rumble began to echo as the Qliphoth roots started to shatter, bringing most of the structure down with it. A little too close for comfort. Reckless, as always. You took several steps back, grabbing V by his collar and making him do the same. It seemed to amuse him a bit in his fatigue.

The dome building crumbled down as well, sending the Devil Sword Sparda skidding across the dirt and blood. Up close...it was an ugly thing. With bones and flesh and an eye on the spine, like someone had built it from the body of a demon. It looked like a hefty boy, the blade almost as long as your body. That was a lot of steel for someone to swing around in a fight, it would definitely take a lot of strength to wield. And judging by the demonic side of it, that was where the “strength of mind” thing came in. A weird sensation traveled up your spine, a mingling sensation of uneasiness and discomfort. You could tell this blade belonged to something powerful and revered, and you definitely couldn’t imagine V lugging it around. You loved the man, you really did, but he was a twig.  

You still didn’t know why he was so sick.

You didn’t get the chance to dwell on that thought for long, especially since V was already making his way to the sword.  

You opened your mouth to try and say something to him, but he had that look in his eye, the one that told you he was incredibly intent. He gazed at the sword, lips parted in a smile as he panted a bit. He let his cane clatter to the ground, hands reaching out to grab the handle of the blade before you could stop him. You took a couple steps toward him, worry in your eyes as you watched him struggle to lift the mighty blade. And struggle he did. He grunted in strain, arms barely able to lift it even an inch. You and Griffon exchanged a worried look, the bird launching from your shoulders to hover anxiously around his master. You thought V knew his limits but...he still seemed determined to try and carry the thing. Why was that? You could see a hint of frustration there, like...like he had something to prove.  

You came closer, putting a hand on his shoulder and gently stroking it over some of his tattoos. You could feel the muscles in his arm clenching with the struggle of holding it, his breaths short and quick.

“You’ve done enough...!” You said in a worried tone, not liking seeing him push himself this hard, “Please don’t strain yourself, V.”

He seemed to find reason in your words. You felt his muscles relax, the poet sighing lightly as he gave up and let the blade hit the ground again. But his fingers still gripped the handle, holding onto it like it was a life preserver. So tightly. His knuckles were white, showing the strain even that had on him.  

“It seems this sword is still too strong for me.” He breathed simply, eyes still cast down at the sword. He was smirking, but it was more akin to bitterness now, his chest risking as the strain probably started registering on his already-weakened body.

Griffon let out a low, bird-like sound, flapping his wings and circling V as the poet caught his breath, “So close though, so close! You’ve got a lot of heart, kid, you really do! But you’re a bit of a sissy in the strength department,” He let out a bit of a laugh, swooping by with a hastily added, “Hey, hey. No offense, uh, you know.”

You sighed lightly at the bird’s words, pressing a light kiss to V’s cheek as a means of comfort. You saw him close his eyes, expression relaxing a bit as he leaned into your touch. You wished you could do more, but there was so much about all of this that you did not understand.  

“You did your best,” You said softly, offering an encouraging smile, “We will figure things out.”

He let out a slow breath at that, opening up his eyes to look back down at the sword.

“That kid, Nero...He has the strength.” He breathed, tone sounding very decided. 

It made you frown a bit, crouching down by the sword to size it up. V was not one to budge on things he was certain about, that was for sure. Still putting all his hope on Nero, it would seem, a thought that made you a bit uneasy. Betting all your chips on one card seemed like a very bad idea, one that would lead to disappointment in most cases. Plus, Nero was far ahead of your group, and you couldn’t see V lugging this thing around for any amount of time. It was heavy, lunky, and you didn’t know if your tendrils could manage.

“Let me take care of the sword for now,” You hummed, summoning said tendrils to wrap them around the blade, “Maybe we can call Nico along the way and see if she will take us to—”

But you didn’t get to finish your sentence.  

The instant your tendrils touched the blade it sent a burst of energy out at you, sending you flying away with a sharp cry of alarm. Painful, paralyzing, and definitely demonic in origin. It made your Void power spike in rage and rejection, sending two different types of agony bouncing around your skull and limbs. 

You tumbled, barely managing to not fall off the cliff due to Griffon and Shadow darting over to stop your momentum. Christ, what the hell was that? It felt like you had been tased, tendrils falling limply to the ground as you landed--Griffon’s talons latched onto you, Shadow’s teeth catching your boot. You thought you heard V shout your name in alarm, followed by the sound of the sword hitting the ground. But there was a buzzing in your head, one that was very loud over everything else.  

And there was a voice, one you knew only you could hear. It hissed in your head, deep and threatening as you tried to get your bearings.

 _You stink of whale oil and that creature lurking in the deep,_ It snarled, _Your filthy hands are not welcome to touching what once belonged to the mighty Sparda..!_

Well. Warning heard and received. Honestly? You weren’t shocked.

No more touching the sword, you knew that much. This was definitely a case of an energy type not liking the void, but it made you wonder. Did demons themselves feel unsettled but the Void naturally, or was this something left behind from Sparda? Because if that was the case, that meant the legendary demon had met your Deity, and it wasn’t on the friendliest terms. You weren’t surprised, but you also weren’t happy about it.

Regardless, you sat up, pressing a hand to your temple as Griffon squawked loudly in alarm, right in your ear. Asking if you were okay, asking if you could hear him. You could, but that sensation needed to fade before he got his answer. It had been a while since you had been so thoroughly smacked by an opposing energy type—Sparda had to be a very hefty boy, that was for sure. 

But shockingly the more upsetting thing was that it had forced V to push himself more in his fatigue, the poet rushing to your side in an instant. You felt V grip your face, pulling you up gently and anxiously smoothing the hair away. His hands were shaking, you could tell that much. Precious boy, his concern was definitely sweet. You blinked up at him, seeing fear and worry in his expression as he looked you over, repeating your name.  

“Y/N...! Are you alright?!” He asked, voice becoming louder as the sensation faded. You blinked again, trying to shake the dizziness and letting him wrap his arms around you.

“Ow...” You muttered, letting out a light groan as you summoned your tendrils back, “Well...that wasn’t fun.”

V tilted your head up, crouching in front of you and pulling you into his lap.

“Are you alright?” He repeated, tone breathy and filled with concern, “Are you hurt?”

You let out a low hum, resting your head on his shoulder and letting yourself relax, “I mean it didn’t feel good, but I’m fine now.”

Fine was a loose term, but you were getting better. There was still lingering numbness in your hands and feet, but the dizziness was now dispersed. It felt a little immature, but you wanted to stick your tongue out at the Devil Sword for its harsh actions. Way to smack you first and ask questions later—you worked for your Deity, sure, but it was impolite to attack you without at least questioning your motives. Those being your aching desire to just help the goth in sandals.

You let out a light laugh at your own train of thought, eyeing the sword a bit and adding in a low murmur, “Told you my Deity doesn’t play well with others. The sword did not like me, and gave me a little love tap to warn me away.”

 _“I’d hardly call that a love tap_!” Griffon squawked angrily, landing next to you and V and letting his gaze travel over you, checking for wounds you assumed, “You almost went flying off the fucking cliff...!”

You shrugged, “You caught me, didn’t you?”

“That isn’t the issue here...!”

Shadow let out a low growl, flicking their ears as the cat turned away and prowled the cliff side. You smiled ruefully, hearing V’s relieved sigh in your ear as the poet pulled back.

“No more handling the sword for you,” He murmured, grasping your chin lightly with those slender fingers so he could put you into a kiss. You accepted it gratefully, savoring the warm feeling of his lips pressing to yours, “Under no circumstances are you to touch it.”

You let out a fake sigh, smiling innocently when he pulled back, “But what if I need to be launched somewhere? Could use it as a glorified catapult.”

“...Y/N.” V’s low, displeased tone only added to your amusement, that look in his jade eyes making your heart thud like a caged bird again. He gazed at you with a bit of exasperation, mingled with unwilling amusement at your light teasing. Was that adoration? It sure looked like it.

You couldn’t help yourself—you leaned forward again, capturing his full lips in kiss. He grunted lightly at your actions, but eagerly returned the favor, one hand cupping the back of your head to pull you in more. For a moment, you forgot where you were and who was there. Tongue slipping past his parted lips briefly, stroking along his and making a tingle of arousal travel down your spine. Dangerous, you shouldn’t be doing that. You almost moaned, feeling his fingers thread with your locks and tug a bit. Maybe something about the danger made you feel a bit bolder, mind still a bit frazzled from the attack the sword landed on you? At least, that’s what you told yourself.

You thought It would be Griffon’s complaining that would jar you back, especially considering that he was hovering nearby and watching. There was definitely an exasperated groan rising in his throat, but it was cut off by the sound of Shadow’s loud roar.

You and V broke away, you trying to hide how flustered you were as you turned to look at the cat. V seemed a little hot around the collar as well, but he recovered quickly once you both noticed Shadow looking over the edge of the cliff side.

“It speaks...!” Griffon said in a mocking, hushed tone of awe, seeming relieved that he didn’t have to be the one to cut off your public display of affection. He swooped over to the cliff, you using your tendrils to pull you and V to your feet. So much for that kiss, but in a way that was for the best. There was still so much to do, so much ground to cover. You exchanged a soft look with him, the poet stroking his hand over your cheek before you turned away.

You heard Griffon suck in a sharp breath before you even looked over the edge of the cliff, trying to see what had him so shocked.

This side of the ledge had land close enough below to see, a drop you could probably make if you were careful. Down there were crumbled statues, and what looked to be...the body of a man? You blinked, eyes widening as you crouched down to get a better look. Sure enough, there was someone down there. Almost cradled in the arms of a creepy looking statue, covered in blood and body slumped in an obvious display of unconsciousness. Who in the hell was that? You knew human survivors were heavily unlikely, in fact it was downright impossible. Unless he was already dead down there, but at this point what the hell would anyone be doing here, this close to the Qliphoth? It made no sense. Then again, you got your answer right away when you heard V suck in a sharp breath next to you.

He stared down at the man with burning eyes, his expression stuck somewhere between shock, relief, and... what was that emotion? Almost like bitter amusement.  

“ _...Dante.”_

You blinked in shock at his low tone, jerking your gaze back down to the man. _That_ was Dante? You weren’t sure what you expected of a legendary demon hunter, but this... wasn’t it. He looked like he hadn’t shaved in a while, which made sense for how long he was missing.  But he wore a simple leather jacket, a faded v-neck and pants. Dressed like every average guy who rode a motorcycle that you had ever met. He also vaguely reminded you of uncles you saw in sitcoms. He was drenched in blood, but you were fairly certain he had white hair just like Nero did. In fact...you blinked, wishing you could get a closer look at the infamous man you all had been searching for. Nothing was stopping you, right?

You summoned your Void energy, making another slide for you and your group to get down and taking a quick hop onto it.  V didn’t come right away, turning away to most likely retrieve the devil sword. That was to be expected, but it still made you super wary to be around now. You would trust Griffon and Shadow enough to make sure V got down safely, since there was no way in hell your tendrils could touch the weapon that sent you flying moments before. 

You landed on the ground with a low thud, rushing to wrap your ability around the devil hunter, pulling him off the statue as gingerly as you could. Head elevated, body steady, just in case he was injured. Christ, how long had he been there? And how had he survived a whole freaking month? He was pretty heavy too, a hefty lad to say the least—made of muscle. You set him down on the ground just as V landed down, riding on Nightmare’s back. The thud shook the ground, but you were used to that.

You looked over the demon hunter for damage, but...you saw no visible wounds. You put an ear to his chest, but still heard a heartbeat and breathing. Holy shit, he was definitely alive.

“This is Dante...?” You asked the group in a disbelieving tone, settling his body on the ground as gently as you could, “He looks...different from what I imagined?”

Griffon landed on the ground next to you, staring at the demon hunter with a mix of shock and awe as V trudged closer with the demon sword in tow.  

“I don’t even have the words,” Griffon sounded absolutely flabbergasted, staring at the unconscious man aghast, “I--He’s alive, he’s _alive_!”

He let out a light chortle, closer to a shocked laugh. You were in heavy agreement. How was he not dead just sitting out in the open, vulnerable and exposed like he was? It was ridiculous.You inspected him a bit, noting mentally that he looked pretty similar to Nero, just with longer hair.

V looked just as surprised as you all, standing nearby and holding the hilt of the Devil Sword as he muttered incredulously, "The Devil Sword Sparda was concealing Dante’s presence.”

“How does one friggin’ guy have so much luck, huh?” Griffon commented off-handedly, clucking his tongue as his head tilted back and forth in a very bird-like way.

You doubted luck was the answer. It made sense, especially considering the others telling you how Dante wielded the sword. You didn’t really know what to do in that moment, looking around the area while Griffon and the others stared at the unconscious man. You slid your tendrils off of Dante, not wanting to put energy into him yet. He was apparently half demon himself, so you weren't sure how he would take the Void’s power, especially considering how the sword reacted to you. The risk of making him worse after an apparent month-long coma was too much to handle at that moment. V was, luckily, human, so he was able to take the energy and use it accordingly. You had yet to test in on someone with demonic blood, so at this moment you were unsure of how to proceed. Could you carry Dante back to Nico’s van? Maybe, but he would need to see a doctor if he wouldn’t wake up.

You took a few steps closer to the statue he had collapsed on, eyeing it with intrigue at its gothic design. It looked like it belonged in a cemetery—how ironic that the devil hunter landed there. How did he not break any bones landing from a fall that high, assuming that he fell from the tree? You doubted Urizen sent demons down to carry him and deposit him ceremoniously on a dramatic stone statue. No...he would have been killed on the spot if such a powerful demon had a hand in this.

You weren’t really listening to the others behind you as you pondered the notion, not paying attention. That was, not until you heard the sound of V’s ragged breathing, and of his cane clattering to the ground.

“Uhhh...V?” Griffon squawked nervously, his tone making a shiver travel down your spine, “No no no, get a grip on yourself now, c’mon!”

You immediately turned, eyes widening at the sight of your usually calm poet. Now...not so calm.

“If only you could defeat Urizen...” He rasped, using a voice that was a far cry from the soft tones he used with you. His eyes were so sharp, head downcast and shoulders hunched, “If only...no.”

_What the hell was he doing?_

“V? No no no...” Griffon squawked in clear alarm, raising his feathery wings and flapping them a few times as he tried to get V's attention.

He was walking toward Dante, dragging the Devil Sword Sparda with him. You had never seen him wear a look like that before, not in all the time you knew him. Bitterness mixed with anger, mixed with a thousand other things you didn’t understand. His gait, that dark look in his eye, the sword tightly in his grasp...there was no way. _There was no way he was about to do what his body language said he was going to do._ Your heart immediately began to pound, time and everything seeming to slow a bit in that moment as you decided you weren’t going to wait and see if you were right. It didn’t make sense, but nothing ever did on these missions. You tried to move your feet to launch yourself and stop the poet, tried to activate your tendrils to grab him. but something stopped you. Something that had never happened before.

Your own power flared on you.

The foresight burst in your stomach like a bomb of acid, screaming to life and paralyzing you in place. Agonizing, burning, clawing at your insides like a creature seeking to escape from you. It made bile rise in your throat, threatening to make you retch as you doubled over. _What the fuck was that?!_ In all your years of doing a mission you had never felt a sensation like that, never felt the foresight retaliate against you for any action. But the message was there, plain and clear in your mind as you lifted your spinning head, mouth opened in a shout of alarm and denial as you watched V reach the devil hunter, oblivious to you, oblivious to the world as he stared down with malice. Dante was still unconscious, unaware of anything that was happening, or about to happen.

You wanted to move. _Why couldn’t you move?_!

 _You cannot interfere._ Your Foresight, screaming in your ears, filled with a thousand whispers of the void, _This is an action you cannot forfeit._

An unchangeable action, one you weren’t allowed to stop. But why?

“If only you never existed,” V’s voice was dripping with muted anger, growing louder and louder as he did exactly what you feared. He lifted the Devil Sword, arms straining as he positioned it right over Dante’s head, “ _Then I..._!”

You saw Griffon snap a panicked look at you, but you knew what he saw. Your eyes were black now as you fought this sensation, fought your own power’s grip on you. You couldn't breathe, you couldn't think. You were bound.

_Stop him...!_

_You cannot. Interfere._

_“Don’t do it V!_ ” Griffon screeched helplessly, flapping his wings wildly, “ _No no NO!”_

_What is happening?_

You were prone, helpless and watching in panic as V sent the Devil Sword down toward Dante’s head.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still going kids! Sorry for the late upload. Next two will be out on the weekend <3

_Chapter 17_

The sword hit the ground with an echoing, metallic crack.

You felt all the air leave your lungs in a burst when the Void power snapped back into focus. Your knees hit the ground, cold air gusting from your lips as you stared at V in absolute panic. What the fuck. _What the fuck._ The Devil Sword Sparda had pierced the ground an inch from Dante’s ear, missing him by just a hair. V was panting heavily, staring down at the devil hunter with a lip-parted smirk as he... _he was awake._ You stared in even heavier shock when you saw Dante’s eyes were now open, looking at the blade impaled in the ground next to him before he pulled himself into a sitting position. You had zero comprehension skills at that moment, stomach still rolling from the effects of the strange power snap-back that had halted you. _And what the fuck was that about?_ You were heavily shaken from the occurrence, heavily shaken from a lot of things in that moment.

What in the world had happened? Why had V done that? _And why did your Foresight slam you like that?_ You met Griffon’s equally startled gaze, unable to find any words to speak in that moment. At least none that would make sense. Dante didn’t even notice you when he looked at V, the poet dropping the sword and falling back on the ground with a gusty huff of air. He was panting heavily, probably from the strain of lifting the weapon when he almost stabbed Dante. He seemed to be more composed now, but his actions before...you had zero understanding of why he had such an adverse reaction, or why he had done what he did. The whole situation was so messed up, but you couldn’t wrap your head around much else in that moment other than the fact that this legendary demon hunter was now awake, and that was the important thing.

Right?

Dante let out a little grunt as he turned his gaze to V, his voice deep and husky as he said way too calmly, “For a second there I thought you were going to shish kabob me.”

He wasn’t the only one who had these thoughts.  

“I know how stubborn you can be,” V replied, still slightly breathless and face now relaxed and neutral, “I thought it might be the only way to wake you.”

Was that...it? It was all some plan V concocted to get the Devil Hunter to wake up? You got the feeling that wasn’t the case, especially considering how your power reacted. Or maybe...that was the only way to wake Dante up, and your power didn’t want you interfering? You felt a little sick to your stomach, pressing a hand to your mouth to hold back bile. That scare was way too much for your heart, that you were sure of. The residual panic hadn’t settled and quite frankly the lashing out from your power was a first that you didn’t need nor want. After so many missions, after having the ability for so long...why had that happened just now? Things were always subject to change, but you had never once had an action that interfered directly with the dimension’s fate. Wasn’t it your job to change this world’s fate anyway? And if that was the case, how did this one action add up?

It didn’t make sense. _If you were here to change fate, why when you tried to interfere did the power hurt you for trying to change something?_

The instant the thought entered your mind a sharp pain cracked through your skill, warning you not to have such thoughts anymore. You rested your head between your knees, squeezing your eyes shut tightly and counting your breaths. This was so not right. It was less about what V did now, and more about the significance of your ability’s reaction. You were just full of doubts, it would seem. You wished the Deity would talk to you even a little bit, some sign that things were going as they should be. That you hadn’t messed up in some way. The anxiety was too much to handle, on the very edges of a panic attack despite the fact that everyone was still there. You felt Griffon land on your shoulders, letting out an anxious trill as he nosed his beak at your hair.

“You okay toots?” He muttered low enough for you to hear, tone just as anxious as you felt, “What the fuck happened just now? You had those freaky eyes again."

You didn’t reply, because you didn’t know how to. What could you say? You were at a loss too.

So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize V and Dante were looking at you too. V immediately pulled himself to his feet at the sight of you sitting and looking unwell, brushing past the confused, white-haired man as he put his hands on your shoulders. It made you jolt out of your thoughts, racing doubts halting as his familiar, warm fingers lifted your head up to look at him. Christ, that look in his eyes made you weak. A far cry from his dark look earlier, he now looked guilty, concerned, worried for you. 

You felt guilty yourself for being upset with him, but...what could you possibly think?

“Are you alright?” He murmured, seeming oblivious to Dante watching you both as he smoothed some of your hair away from your face, “I apologize for not explaining myself before I woke up Dante. Is that what caused this?”

You opened your mouth, but closed it quickly. You couldn’t explain it...could you? V didn’t know about your foresight, your mission, the reason why you were here. If he knew you had come here to fix the dimensions problem and punish who was causing it...you were afraid he would think of your motives as manipulative. Everything you felt was genuine, everything with him was the truth and it was more real than anything in your life for such a long time. The Foresight was a tool to tell you where danger would lie on your path, but now...now it seemed like the ability would tell you where your actions were damaging to the cause. You had no idea why some things were set in stone and some weren’t, especially when it wasn’t like this on other missions.

But that wasn’t the point.

Fuck, you didn’t want to lie to him after so many other lies. But you still did.

“I think the Devil Sword’s effects haven’t really left me yet,” You smiled lightly, expression a bit tired as you blatantly lied to his face, “I’m just feeling a bit woozy.”

The look Griffon shot you said everything that you needed to know about what was going on in his head while V paused to look at you. The bird didn’t believe you for a second, that was for sure. He had seen the adverse reaction, and that was a bit more than wooziness. The Void’s effect on you was a frightening thing at times, and you hated the fact that Griffon and Shadow witnessed it over and over. As for V, and whether he was distrusting of your words...

V frowned a bit, but you couldn’t tell if he was convinced or not.

“I’m sorry,” He said in his honey-smooth tone, stroking a thumb over your lip as he stared at you tenderly, "Maybe it would be best if you rested for a bit."

You opened your mouth to reply, but was shocked when Dante spoke before you.

“Who’s your new friend, V?” He sounded a tad bit amused, both of you looking up to see him now standing and stretching. He looked at you with an expression somewhere between curiosity and... what was that? Akin to recognition, but not quite that either. Especially since you and Dane hadn’t seen each other at all before now. 

Which he confirmed when he added, “Don’t think we’ve met at all.”

V removed his hands from your face, which made you a tad bit sad. It occurred to you how it looked to Dante, who you knew V had met before since he hired the devil hunter to begin with. You and V had grown a bit to accustomed to being...er, openly affectionate with each other? V had definitely stroked your face like a lover would, which seemed to be a bit surprising to the older male. He rose a brow when your face flushed a bit, both Griffon and V helping you rise to your feet.

V cleared his throat a bit, looking incredibly tired but a tad bit proud as he put a hand on your shoulder, “Her name is Y/N. She offered to aid us after we met her in Redgrave.”

You held out your hand, trying to properly introduce yourself for once considering Dante seemed to be a big deal to everyone else.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” You commented with a friendly smile, trying to calm your own internal panic from before, “Nice to finally meet the man, the myth, the legend.”

He smirked a bit, taking your hand and firmly shaking it.

The instant he did you saw a shift in his eyes, head tilting a bit as his smile widened into something akin to...realization and surprise. He looked pleasantly bemused, like you had confirmed something he was already thinking. You blinked, feeling a strange aura from him, one that made the power of the Void swirl uneasily. 

Dante looked at you in a way that was way too knowing, way too intelligent despite the somewhat lazy expression he wore. Damn, he really did look a lot different than you imagined. A bit fuzzy and laid back looking, like a teddy bear. But that didn’t help shake the discomfort his energy brought, that knowing look way too wise for a face like that.

“Always dig new faces for our little rag tag team,” He replied with a low hum, finally releasing your hand and rocking back on his heels, “Just don’t expect payment, ‘cause I don’t think we have any to spare.”

You laughed lightly, “I wasn’t expecting payment to begin with.”

Dante let out a barely-there chuckle, stretching a bit more as his eyes met yours, “Then it’s a pleasure. So... What’s this I hear about the Devil Sword having an effect on you?”

Oh yes. Dante was way too knowing. This question was asking in a very particular tone, one that was almost taunting you to answer.

You paused, trying to form the words in your head even as V’s eyes scanned your face worriedly. He could tell something was bothering you, that much was definitely sure. For whatever reason, you were having a hard time gathering your emotions. Probably due to the scare your Foresight had given you moments earlier. Why did you feel so uncomfortable with telling Dante about your shit with the Deity? By all accounts it didn’t make any sense, especially considering you didn’t know Dante at all. Your mistrust was definitely misplaced.

“That is a discussion for another time,” V's voice surprised you out of your thought process, making you look at him. His expression was firm yet calm, one of his hands squeezing your shoulder comfortingly as he diverted the subject from you, “You’ve been missing for a month, Dante.”

“A month?” Dante tilted his eyes to V, letting out a hefty sigh as he rolled his shoulders a bit, “Explains why I’m so stiff.

Bless the poet, you could have kissed him in that moment. He must have sensed something about the situation was distressing you, and moved it along so you didn’t have to talk about it. You didn’t mind Dante, really you felt he was friendly enough and a decent person. But...there was some things you felt he knew that you didn’t want V and the others to know yet. Your secrets were yours to reveal when you felt comfortable enough to do so. At least...that’s what you told yourself.

Griffon swooped over to Dante as he spoke, the man turning and stretching his arms a bit more and working out any kinks in his muscles.

“Right, sunshine, now put a fire under it!” Griffon squawked, talking incredibly fast as he hovered next to the demon hunter, “We gotta get going, ‘cause that annoying pimple Nero is making a beeline for Urizen. And if he gets there he’s gonna—”

Dante cut the bird off abruptly, snatching him roughly by his throat mid-sentence and hurling him away as the bird’s shout trailed off, _“Smashed like a bug...!”_

You immediately gasped, sending your tendrils out to grab Griffon before he could spiral too far away. He squawked in surprise when you stopped his trajectory, pulling him back to you and holding him protectively to your chest. That was definitely not nice—Griffon could be annoying but not in a way that deserved physical violence against him. You knew Dante hunted demons, but...Griffon was your friend first and a demon second. That was definitely not at the top of your things about Dante that you enjoyed.

“Was that necessary?” You protested, resting your chin on the top of Griffon’s feathery head. You heard the bird grumbling, tucked against you like a baby and his feathers puffed out. Thoroughly frazzled. But Dante wasn’t listening to you.

“Hey, this is _my_ gig,” His voice sounded more annoyed than you had heard it so far, his eyes narrowing at the poet as he spoke, “Leave Nero out of this.”

V let out a slow, heavy sigh, expression incredibly exhausted as he took a few steps toward his cane. It was still where he dropped it when he had gone to stab Dante.

“If you could defeat Urizen, then I never would have dreamed of using that child.” He said in a slightly breathless tone, one that only increased your worry for him. You hadn’t given him energy for a while now, and it was concerning to you now the more you observed him. There were dark circles under his eyes, plainly visible. He let out a soft, pained grunt as he reached down to pick up his cane. 

God damn it, Griffon was right—V would never ask for your assistance, especially not when you had seemed ill moments prior. Lucky for him, the episode with the Void’s Foresight hadn’t caused exertion, you were still good for a little while at least.

“But Urizen,” V continued, tone growing heavy and troubled as he straightened back up. His eyes looked so...far away in that moment, hand gripping the head of his cane as he rasped, “Is much stronger than we could have imagined.”

You exchanged a look with Griffon, holding him a little tighter as a heavy silence fell over the group. You knew what the others had told you, but it seemed like the demon in the tree was a bit more problematic than V let on.  

“Our last hope Nero..." He said in a low tone, turning to side eye Dante with a forlorn glance, "Was completely useless."

You bristled a bit at that, not liking how either man talked about the fellow demon hunter. Nero was strong, capable, and a little reckless. Sure. But he was also pretty kind and he seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. Dante seemed heavily averse to not including Nero on the mission at all, which made absolutely no sense to you. He seemed down for you joining, so why not another fighter who was debatabley stronger than you were? You looked between the two men, the urge to speak up growing and growing until you were ready to pop like a bubble. Which you did.

“Excuse me,”  You said clearly and precisely, causing the two boys to look at you in surprise, “But doesn’t Nero’s will and wants have anything to do with this?”

Dante rose a brow at that, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against a nearby wall.

“Nero has already proven he isn’t cut out for something this high caliber,” He replied to you in a matter-of-fact tone, his light-colored eyes meeting yours, “He’s just gonna get himself killed if he keeps going.”

You frowned, indignation burning in your chest on Nero’s behalf. No wonder the “dead weight” shit bothered him. Literally no one seemed to believe in the poor kid.

“Yeah, he lost a fight to the same demon _you_ lost to,” You tilted your head to the side a bit, letting Griffon hop up on your shoulders and settle comfortably, “While he was on the back-ass end of losing an arm. Can’t believe he couldn’t manage. And you,” You looked at V, making him blink in startled surprise, “You know damn well he was still hurt considering you brought him there. And yet both of you call him useless?”

It was incredibly unfair.

V and Dante exchanged a glance, V looking thoroughly chastised and Dante looking...pleasantly surprised and amused.

“You sound like you’re Nero’s advocate,” Dante approached you a bit, arms still crossed as he stepped away from the wall, “But you still want him to go rushing into danger like he is?”

“’Course not,” You huff, crossing your arms as well and staring firmly back, “We definitely need to catch up with him. But wouldn’t it make more sense for everyone to take on Urizen at once at full strength? You guys royally suck at teamwork.”

Dante let out a light huff of a laugh at that, leaning down to retrieve the Devil Sword Sparda from the ground. He lifted it with absolute ease, not hindered at all as he leaned the blade against his shoulder.

“Can’t let a boy do a man’s job.” He winked at you, grinning lazily as he turned away, like he hadn’t heard a damn thing you had said. 

You blinked in the surprise; annoyance traveled through you as he started to walk away. Why did you get the feeling that Dante was often the type to go with his own flow and not listen to others? It was like trying to convince a brick wall not to be a brick wall. Why was he so determined to keep Nero out of the loop, and _just_ Nero? If anything, encouraging V to stay behind would be smart considering how weak he was. But V was the one paying for this mission, so you assumed. Maybe that was why.

But what about Lady? He made no mention of her despite the fact that she had “popped out of a demon” after being captured a month ago. You absolutely couldn’t get a read on Dante, not one bit.

V immediately started forward after the white-haired man when he began to leave, face filled with exasperation as he leaned heavily on his cane. He looked a tad bit annoyed as well, especially considering Dante showed no signs of slowing down. It was clear the demon hunter had no intention of traveling with your group, that was for sure. Part of you was disappointed, especially considering how much you liked getting to know people. But...another part knew this was for the best. Nero was going on ahead on his own, and V was growing weaker for whatever reason. There was no way you could catch up with him as you all were.

“Hey, wait...! I’m not done talking yet—” V began to protest, only to stumble and collapse to the ground with a strained sound. 

You had never seen him fall like that before. It set off several alarms in your head.

“V...!” You immediately gasped, darting to his side as he rested on his hands and knees, panting heavily.

 _Something was wrong._

He looked deathly pale, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead as you wrapped your tendrils around him, seeking to help him back up. He was growing weaker by the minute, and you couldn’t fathom why. He had seemed pretty much fine when you set out in the morning, though you had noticed a bit of a limp in his step after walking for a few hours. You shouldn’t have agreed to only giving him energy when he asked, he clearly needed it more often than you thought.

Dante paused at the sound of V falling, turning back to spare him a glance with that Sword still over his shoulder. You saw his face, saw a hint of worry in his expression before he registered that lazy smile again. You could tell by his body motions he had zero chances of stopping and waiting despite V’s condition.

“Okay, you get some rest,” He said decidedly, turning back around again and starting forward, “By the way, guess I owe you one.”

He paused once more to glance back at you as you stared at him, a little smirk playing on his lips.

“Take care of him for me. _..Miss Priestess_ ,” He commented, eyes shifting to V as his name for you made a jolt of shock travel down your spine, “Looks like he can use it.”

You opened your mouth to quip a reply as he was walking away, but...something distracted you.

Something far more pressing than Dante knowing what you were.

V was lifting a trembling hand, his breath coming in low pants as he stared at his fingers. You turned your gaze immediately, a shiver of absolute shock traveling down your spine as you stared at his skin. 

He was... _cracking._

On his hands, spider-webbing cracks spread out over his pale, once smooth skin, almost all the way down his wrists. In the areas of these cracks, flakes of what looked to be almost ash came off of him. Like he was crumbling away. _Dying,_ your brain said as you stared with horror, heart pounding faster and faster until you were sure you would burst. What was happening? _What was happening to him?_ You were frozen in place, unable to even breathe for a moment as so many emotions traveled through your body.  

 _“V..._?” Your tone was shaken, your fingers reaching out and trembling as they stroked along his palms.  

This isn’t right. _It wasn’t right._

“...” He let out a bitter laugh, curling his fingers a bit as he breathed, "I'm running out of time."

V let out a slow breath, making you look at his face while you panicked inside. He was staring at you, so many emotions on his face as your gaze met his. Regret, pain, sorrow, guilt. All mixed together in a volatile bundle as those jade orbs lingered on your own eyes. You could tell right away that he knew this would happen. There was no shock, no horror there on that face you had fallen for. No...only that deep rooted regret, and acceptance. 

_He is dying. And you can do nothing._

Bile started churning in your stomach again, making you want to retch as you wrapped your tendrils around his palms, fear filling you when more of his skin turned to ash. He still felt so real, so solid and _alive._ So why was something like this happening? Why was he breaking apart?

Griffon landed next to you, staring at V’s hands with the same expression the poet wore. At least, as close as his avian features could get. He knew this was going to happen to, that you could tell. 

“Son of a bitch.” He muttered, turning his beak away to avoid your horrified gaze. He was of little consequence in that moment.

V was the one you needed to focus on.

“What’s happening to you...?” You whispered, voice thick with tears threatening to pour down your cheeks. Panic was rising now, putting you close to hyperventilating as you summoned every ounce of power you had to spare in that moment to channel into him, “ _From the Void, Into you...!”_

 _“Y/N.._.!” V began to protest, putting those crumbling hands on your wrists. But you wouldn’t be stopped.  

 _“Through the Void, Flesh is Woven..._!” You refused to be stopped.  

 _Destined to sample the fruits of happiness, but to never have your fill._  

The Void was in your ears again, whispering louder and louder. Until it was a screaming, making your ears ring and head spin.You felt like you were suffocating, the power of the Void burning your insides but barely noticeable compared to the mental agony you were in. You couldn’t handle any more, not after what happened earlier. Not the Foresight, not Dante, not this.

Anything but this.

_What a sad creature you are. Starved, desperate, cursed to have all good in your life snatched away before you can truly experience them._

He couldn’t be another. He couldn’t be another happiness you lose before it has truly began.

Your energy left you in the next moment, pouring into his body in a dose higher than you had given him before. He hissed, squeezing his eyes shut and letting out a pained gasp. You felt terrible, you felt guilty, but you couldn’t stop. He doubled over slightly, leaving you open to resting your forehead against his as you focused on his hands. More energy, then more, keeping count of the seconds so you’ll know when to stop. You couldn’t press it too hard; you couldn’t risk the damage the Void could bring. But this was all you knew, all you had for him when he needed it.

And it was working.

As you focused the energy on him, the cracking in his hands faded into nothingness. The crumbling disappeared as well, leaving his skin clear and smooth once more. Just like that, just a bit more. The problem needed to be gone, as much as you could get it.  You heard Griffon suck in a breath in shock, staring at your healing work while V panted and struggled with the strain the energy of the Void brought. Enough to make his limbs burn but that would go away in time. Desperation fueled you now, heavy and drowning you as you finally ended the energy stream and retracted the tendrils back.

V immediately slumped forward, staring at his now-healed hands with shock. But...you could tell. That look in his eyes told you all that you needed to know before his lips parted to say it.

“A temporary solution,” He whispered, looking up at you with his jade eyes as yours filled with tears, “I cannot lie to you, sparrow. You slowed it down, but...”

You knew. You knew he was going to say it, but it still hit you like a slap to the face.

_All that you love, you eventually lose._

_“What is happening to you...?!_ ” The dam inside you finally broke, tears rolling down your cheeks as your cry echoed around the cliffs and crevices.  

You couldn’t stop now, all the events of the day building and building your panic inside until you snapped under the weight. Fear traveling through you like a coursing river, definitely hyperventilating now as you continued to stare at his hands. Temporary, only temporary. You couldn’t let it go, couldn’t let the panic go as every pent-up trauma and worry came pouring out.      

“Y/N...” V whispered, voice thick with emotion as he cupped your cheeks. He wiped the tears away, but more came in its place.

You were not comforted.

“You knew...!” You were sobbing now, guilt and unhappiness building up inside even as you leaned into his touch, “Why is that happening to you...? Why can’t I stop it...?!”

V started breathing heavily too, pulling you hard against him as Griffon and Shadow watched in silence. You continued to quietly cry, hating yourself thoroughly because you knew you had no right to be mad at him. You had your secrets too, you had things you purposely hid from him and lies you told. But nothing like this, nothing that meant your inevitable, unstoppable death. And that’s what this would lead to, you knew that. V was going to die, crumbling away into nothing. But...why? You could tell he was weak and unwell, but what the fuck could be so terrible to cause his body to disintegrate?

He pressed a kiss to your neck, his breath shaky as he replied in a low voice, "You deserve an explanation. You deserve it and more,” He pressed his forehead to yours, smoothing your hair away as he continued, "You knew I was here for a reason, and that reason is to stop Urizen. He...took a part of me when all this began, a part of me that I...cannot survive without.”

You clutched at his vest with both hands, eyes down and staring at the ground while your tears pattered steadily.

“That’s why you’re so driven,” You whispered in an aching tone, closing your eyes again and trying to will yourself to stop, “I should have known I...I...”

“ _Stop,_ ” V protested, pressing his lips to yours and holding your face close. Your heart fluttered even in the pain, even when he eventually pulled back from you and breathed, “Please...please don’t beat yourself up for anything.”

You felt more tears spill out, tracking down your already wet cheeks before making the plunge from your chin. This was too much, too much to handle. You were crumbling yourself, unable to pull your mind back together.  

“Is there nothing I can do...?” You whispered, feeling so helpless.

V smiled sadly, cupping one of your damp cheeks, “Everything you can do, you have done.”

You didn’t feel like it. You felt like you were failing him.

“This piece of you he took,” Your voice was raw, your hands shaking where they still held his vest, “Is...is there no way to get it back...?”

V paused visibly, a hesitant look in his eyes as he looked away from you. He looked at Griffon, the bird’s wings dropping and expression a bit guilty as they shared a long glance.  

“In theory,” V said softly, “It can be regained. But...Urizen must be defeated.”

Griffon let out a light sigh at his words, looking away with a strange look in his eyes.  

You were so upset you didn’t really notice it, but the back of your mind did. You were still too broken, heart aching terribly and breathes still shaking. He just had to get to Urizen, right? All the time you wasted felt that much heavier now, guilt gnawing at your insides. You couldn’t risk anything, couldn’t let V fall apart before the task was done. It made everything all that more frantic, so much at stake it was stifling now. You sat in silence, body feeling so tired now that you were crying.

You hadn’t exerted yet, thank god, but now you didn’t care. You were prepared to break yourself for him, over and over again if necessary. But that wasn’t an option either—if you weren’t in peak condition to take care of him, no one else could do it. 

_This pain is a reminder._

V suddenly pulled you into his lap, tucking you against his skinny frame and holding you there. You blinked, breath catching as he buried his face in your hair.

“I am sorry,” He whispered, voice shaking again as he held you so tenderly. His tone made your eyes burn with more tears, threatening to overflow, “I knew my time was borrowed, and yet I...I did not hesitate to bring you so close. I could have kept you at an arms-length, to save you from this pain. But I...am such a selfish creature, sparrow.”

He tilted your face up, and your heart ached at his expression. Pained, guilty, agonizingly guilty. His eyes looked like he was close to tears.

“Your warmth, your kindness, your affections...” He whispered, cupping your cheek like it was made of glass, touch feather-light, “The moment I tasted it I became addicted...You made me feel protected, loved...like my existence isn’t as worthless as I previously feared. I couldn’t let that go...I’ve taken something from you I cannot return.”

He closed his eyes, your hands reaching up to stroke away the wetness on his lashes. More heart breaking, more pain.

“Forgive me...please.” V whispered, opening his glistening jade gaze to meet yours.

You felt your breath hitch as you leaned up, hugging him hard around his neck and holding him close. His hands locked around your lower half, his back hunched as he leaned his head on your shoulder. You could feel his every breath, could feel his pounding heartbeat. There was so much to lose, but so much to gain. You  refused to give up on him for a second, and you refused to blame him for anything, especially not when you had so many secrets writhing under your own skin. 

Shadow let out a low, distressed sound, padding over and wrapping their form around both of you. Warm, so warm. You could tell both familiars were anxious, the day going from calm to frightening in an instant. You didn’t want to feel rushed any more, wanted all the time you could get with him.With all of them.

What would happen to the three companions if he were to die?

Their worry and hesitation from before made sense now. No wonder they seemed so unhappy when you suggested they had plenty of time.

“What’s happening to us...?” You breathed in V’s ear, staring up at the Qliphoth looming in the distance, “We both just couldn’t stay away...And now things are falling to pieces.”

V let out a half laugh, half sigh, his voice so tired as he replied against your skin, “We are quite the pair, you and I.” 

The same as before. The both of you, so unsure and breaking apart over each other. It was everything and it was damning. But you didn’t care.

Griffon let out a light sigh, flapping his wings so he could land on your shoulders. In this position he could wrap his wings around both you and V’s head, his beak resting on your hair.

“You’re both idiots,” He said in a low tone, one so serious and out of character for him, “An absolute handful.”

You gave a small, sad smile, reaching back to stroke his beak with your fingers, “You’ve been right from the beginning. Are you pleased?”

He paused, letting out a heavy sigh and touching his beak to your cheek. He sounded so tired too, and worried. You knew he secretly cared about V, cared about both of you. This whole scenario had to be bad for everyone.

“No,” He admitted in a low voice, closing his eyes as he added, “Hard to be happy when all this sad shit is going on. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you from the get go, toots. It’s...a touchy subject.”

You shook your head, “Please...don’t apologize. I know how things can be. I just...I wish I...”

You wished the fear wasn’t there. You wished V wasn’t dying. So many wishes were rattling in your skull, the poet in your arms so important to you it hurt.

You leaned back, tilting his head up so he could meet your gaze. You were head over heels for this poet, and in such a short time. It was far too late to turn back now, that was for sure. Him, Shadow, Griffon, Nightmare...you cared for them all so dearly, the only ones you had in your life after so long of having no one. There was no chance of you leaving any of them, even if you failed. You were always prepared for a mission to hurt, for people to die. And you were determined to keep your memories, even if... _Even if V didn’t make it_.

If you weren’t good enough to even protect the one person who mattered most, then you wanted it to hurt. You wanted the pain to remind you every moment of your existence until the end of time itself.

“We will figure it out,” You whispered, your resolve set in stone, “We always will. I will get you to the top of that damned tree.”

V smiled softly, his eyes tired and filled with...what emotion was that? Still something akin to guilt, but that didn't feel right either. You wanted to share parts of him with you, parts that you had kept hidden before now that his weaknesses were out in the open. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing his soft lips and pressing your body to his. He reacted accordingly, his breath coming steadily as he returned the affection in kind. How could someone missing a piece of himself feel so whole, alive, complete in your arms? It felt so surreal, despite the fact that you had seen his hands crumbling with your own eyes.

Griffon hopped from your shoulders as soon as you touched his mouth, putting some distance between you and the goth’s passion and landing next to Shadow on the floor.

The bird knew some of your secrets. But he still didn’t say a damn thing, true to his word and true to your wishes.

“V...” You murmured against his lips, “You... you know there are things I have hidden from you too, right...?” 

So many things. Too many things. They were crawling up your spine, choking you with their intensity now that the clock was ticking against you. There was so much to tell him, so much to share, but now...Now there was not enough time to say it, to prepare yourself. And that was an ache you did not want to have, one you didn’t need. But you would embrace it.

_Pain is a reminder that you are alive._

He paused at that, leaning back so that his warm breath touched your moistened lips. His eyes were half closed, a sensual expression on his face as he gazed at you.

“I know,” He murmured, touching his forehead to yours and lips tilted in a soft smile as he quoted the very same thing you once said to him, “How fortunate for you, I love a good mystery.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keeping with the weekend uploads! Sorry I can't do more, but check out my tumblr spirit-of-the-void if you want some fun asks and the like

_Chapter 18_

You needed to catch up with Dante.

That was the only order of business now that everything was said and done. You were the first to pull away from V, heart aching and brain going into focused mode. Time to get yourself together. V needed someone level and strong, someone to help him through this. You looked into his jade eyes as you came to your feet, pulling him up with a low huff from you both. He was looking normal again, sure, but you needed to be observing him at all times. How long would the decay last before he eventually faded away? Would there be a point where your energy stopped being able to help him? So many questions, swirling around your skull. You couldn’t focus on them now, not yet, not when there was so much to do and everything was so fresh.

Deep breathes, eyes forward. You had done this before, so many times in times of panic and dread. The fear would always be there, but now was the time to rise above it and keep your feet treading.  

The knowledge was still a wound on your soul, but it wasn’t like you didn’t have plenty of those. You could tell V was worried, more so for you than him. Your tears were gone, but your anxiety was plain on your face as you summoned your bag, pulling out some food for you and the poet to eat while you walked. Things high in sugars for you, whatever could bring the most energy. If it came down to it, you didn’t want to invoke your Deity again, but you would do it if it meant getting to the Qliphoth faster. V wouldn’t like that, but his health was held over yours now. Everything was about timing, precision and choice making as you neared the massive tree.

You quickly ate a few peanut butter bars, absorbing back the bag just as V finished off a piece of fruit. He ate it as quickly as he was able, but you got the sense he wasn’t feeling too hot. Your own stomach didn’t like food on it either, but you were willing to force it when it was so needed.

“We should use Shadow to travel from here on out,” V commented, tone low and shockingly calm after everything that had happened. He was leaning heavily on his cane, eyeing the big cat as it walked laps around you all, "We can cover more ground that way.”

You still felt strange about it, but you still nodded at his request, crouching down to meet Shadow’s eyes. The mighty creature lifted its head to bump yours, purring loudly enough that you were sure the others could hear it too. Precious, and so very good. Shadow could definitely sense you were upset, doing their best to offer comfort in their own way. 

You kissed the black snout, standing back up and smiling a bit more. V was obviously correct--if you wanted to catch up with Dante, Shadow was the way to do it. You need to save energy anyway, and the journey would give you some moments to recharge.

“Let’s do it.” You replied, taking a deep breath and taking a few steps toward V.  

You wrapped your arms around him from behind, pressing your face to his back like you did once before on your journey. Through the sewers, when you first saw this ability. So much had changed in that short time, it felt like it had been years ago. Less holding onto V now, more embracing him than anything. His solidity made you feel a bit better about everything, his heart beat steady when you slid your fingers up his chest.

He sucked in a short breath, tapping his cane once on the ground to summon Shadow back. The mighty cat turned into a cloud of black, settling under your feet and V’s once more. Barely noticeable, but their physicality existed under your boots. That much you could tell. As for Griffon, he let out a light huff, immediately summoning back to his master and darkening his tattoos. You and the poet, technically alone again. It felt so strange now, making you ache inside.

You had made love to him in the night. He had felt so complete, so whole. You hoped the activities hadn’t been uncomfortable for him, or straining.

Regardless, he started forward. Cane tipped and sending you both speeding along through the landscape. Wind whipped past you, making you close your eyes and hair whip slightly. This was faster than the first time, you could tell. Was that Shadow moving you more, or V? You couldn't tell, but there was an urgency in the traveling now. You hardly looked at the landscape, already knowing what you would see. More destruction, more decay. It was getting to you a lot more than usual, heart aching and heavy from the days events.

You tried to focus on V. His scent, his body shifting under your hands, the way his ebony hair moved in the wind. He felt warm.. _.alive._ You told yourself that over and over. He wasn't dead, not yet—and you would never let him reach that point. There was so much life in his body and hope did exist. You were determined to stay strong for the both of you, but you knew V had been driven from the start. But...there was a sadness in his eyes now, one that you saw every time he turned back to glance at you.

Was he already convinced he wasn’t going to make it?

“V?” You murmured, voice barely heard above the sound of Shadow at your feet, and the wind moving past.

He paused, his free hand coming to rest on yours clasped around his middle.

“Yes, darling?” He murmured, turning his head a bit to glance at you with those jade eyes, "What’s on your mind, my sparrow?”

You closed your eyes again, focusing on how his deep voice rumbled under your ear. That alone was a comfort, his nickname for you making you so warm inside.

“Does...Does Nero know that something is wrong?” You said as audibly as you could manage, “Or...am I the only one other than Dante who knows?”

V let out a sigh, turning his head away, "Nero doesn't know...not yet," He paused, voice taking on a guilty tone as he added, "Forgive me for...how I spoke of Nero earlier. You were right to chastise us for it.”

You sighed a bit, remembering that you did in fact stand up heavily for the white-haired boy. It just upset you a lot when they belittled him for nothing, or downplayed his strength. You had no idea why everyone had it out for Nero, but he had been nothing but kind to you.

“He’s doing his best, you know?” You replied, lifting up your head to stare at the back of V’s head, “He’s got no family in his life to believe in him, so someone has to. Mind you, he has Kyrie and Nico. But judging by the way he talks about Dante...he looks up to him. And hearing him say stuff like that pissed me off on his behalf.”

V went a bit quiet at that, but you couldn’t see his face or the expression he wore.  

“Nero is...still young,” He finally said, hesitantly though. Like he was testing the waters of the conversation, “Before you came along, he was the only one I felt I could truly trust with anything.”

You nodded at that, but felt a bit confused. He hired Dante for this mission, but still felt like he couldn’t trust him? According to Nero, Trish and Lady were hired too. That means despite having all three powerhouses, V still went out of his way to seek out Nero and include him on the mission. It made sense as for why the boy was friendly with V. He wanted to be included, wanted someone to believe in him and have hope in his abilities. Which V seemed to up until talking to Dante, where he seemed to change his tune.

Why that was the case, you didn’t...understand. It was like he was trying to put a fire under Dante’s feet, saying whatever he thought would motivate the demon hunter.

And going to save Nero was a motivation.

In retrospect, it felt like it was less of Dante not believing in Nero, and more of...he was protecting him from something. But what? The danger was equal for everyone on this mission, sure, but there was a better chance at victory if everyone used their skills to take the demon on. Dante seemed determined for Nero to not even do that, to not fight the monster at all. You couldn’t place your finger on why, but you definitely wanted to talk to Dante about it. Hell, you needed to talk to him about a lot of things.

“As it stands, you’re the one who believed in Nero enough to keep him on this mission,” You murmured to V, leaning your head on his back again, “I bet he looks up to you too. Stuff like that seems to mean a lot to him. And now...I think I’m realizing Dante doesn’t really have anything against Nero either, does he?”

V let out a low hum, his voice just loud enough to hear as he muttered, “I don’t believe so.”

“Now I feel bad for scolding you both,” You sighed, closing your eyes and letting out a low groan, “I’ve made a terrible first impression.”

V chuckled lightly at that, stroking his fingers lightly over yours as he turned you around some debris, “I wouldn’t say so. Dante is the type to like guts, and you’ve certainly shown that. After everyone building him up the past few days you did not hesitate once to stand up for Nero, and that is admirable in itself.”

His praise always made you feel so warm. It was too bad everything was now tempered with that overwhelming panic.  

You squeezed V a bit tighter at the thought, your smile fading back to a look of quiet concern. V could feel your change in mood, shifting his hand so his fingers threaded with yours. Warmth, solidity. _A reminder._

“We will make it,” You murmured, more to yourself than him, “I...I know what it feels like to die. And I don’t want you to go through that.” Not now, not ever.

Admitting that was like a punch to your gut, and the thing punching you was anxiety and fear. You felt V’s breath catch, his fingers squeezing yours a bit tighter as the wind rushed by. What could possibly be going through his head? You wished you could see his face, wished you could even begin to read his expression. V was so important to you, so necessary. The idea of him suffering was hurting you inside. You had been through so much, you spent so much time in pain that it was routine for you. Something to accept and expect, to grit your teeth and live through. V deserved better, he deserved everything and more.

“No dying for you, either,” V whispered, his tone barely heard. But you managed anyway, looking up at his ebony hair in surprise, “Promise me, Sparrow. No more deaths for you, not this time. Even if I don’t make it, you will live for us both.”

Gods, why would he make you promise something that _hurt so much?_

You had already resigned yourself to that fate, already knew that if you were to lose him that you wanted to live with the pain. It was your punishment, your necessity. _Your reminder_. But hearing him tell you what you already thought...it made your heart ache, knowing he was so prepared to not make it. The way he worded it too...it made it sound like he knew how many times you had died, and how much the sensations haunted you. You mind bounced back to the nightmare from the previous night, the one you couldn’t remember. Something told you that your words in that dream let on more than V was telling you.

And that was okay.

“It won’t come to that,” You whispered back, holding him a little tighter, “But...I’ll make any promise I need to you.”

V went quiet again, but you could sense an air of relief around him. One that made your heart ache.

Still, you traveled along the same path Dante had blazed before you. Evidence showed he had most certainly paved along first. Scorch marks on the ground, the scrapes of claws and blades—he had ripped through the demons further along easily, leaving practically no trace. But you knew better. 

Generally, your Foresight would flare every few moments, your group stopping for attacks then starting onward again. But christ, Dante had cleared the way for you all. Not a single creature popped out, which cut your travel time in half as you and the poet sped along. You could catch up to the demon hunter this way, that was for certain. As for you, it gave you a chance to regain some energy, body relaxing and Void powers swirling gently inside. Hell, you were sure you dozed off at some point—how you managed to stay upright you would never know.

The day’s events and exhaustion had caught up to you fast, making you weary. You didn’t know how long you slept, but V certainly didn’t complain. You awoke still wrapped around his back, eyelids drooping as you registered air still moving past you both. Your legs felt a bit stiff from your actions, but you felt like you had resorted to sleeping standing up before. You stretched one, then the other, making sure not to lose your balance. This was a good thing, you told yourself. Much needed energy was back, replenished, ready to use if needed. You quickly looked at V, peeking around him at his hands to check and make sure he wasn’t cracking again yet.

From what you saw, he wasn’t. But his face was a bit pale when he looked back at you, a tired smile curving his lips.

“Welcome back,” He murmured, slowing down a bit so you could hear him, “How are you feeling?”

You let out a little huff at that, stretching up so you could kiss his cheek, “I should be asking you that. We can stop and rest, you don’t look well.”

He shook his head no immediately, giving your hand a squeeze and tilting his cane forward to go faster, “No, we can’t afford to wait...I can sense we are close to Dante. It’s a chance we can’t lose.”

“V...” Your tone was filled with distress, hands squeezing him tighter as your eyes threatened to burn with tears, “Are you sure about that?”

He nodded, still staring forward as he replied, “We keep moving. The faster we reach the tree the faster this conflict is resolved.”

You frowned, worried and troubled at his no-nonsense tone. He was definitely in a mindset that could not be swayed, one that made you very uneasy. This was not the time to take risks, and the day was still young. And by that, it seemed to be the afternoon, the sun was still out in the sky behind those clouds. 

You had made good progress with V for all the fighting and stopping, and Dante’s clearing of demons was making it even easier to make haste now. Close, so close. The tree was within range enough to smell its awful stench, the landscape covered in demonic flesh and destroyed buildings. You were still on what appeared to be an abandoned road, the black asphalt underneath you covered in blood. Disgustingly so.

Regardless, you fell silent, not wanting to argue with V when he was so convinced. You wanted to think he knew best, wanted to trust his judgement. He was so important to you, so crucial. If it reached a point where his judgement was obviously failing and leading to a bad outcome, you would assert yourself when needed. 

To top all of this off, your Foresight was strangely _quiet_ in regards to him. You would think that someone so important to you would cause it to be tipped—which actions would save him and which wouldn’t? You had thought V was imperative to this world’s fate since you felt good about going with him in the beginning, but the way your Foresight was acting...it was like there was nothing you would do that changed anything. And that made no sense.

It was bothering you. But you didn’t have long to focus on that.

The sounds of fighting approached steadily, punctuated by the sound of a motorcycle. Was that the sound you were hearing? You couldn’t be sure.

You blinked, exchanging a look with the poet before he pressed forward. That had to be Dante, there was no way anyone else could be this close to the tree. V hopped off of Shadow once you both reached a place where the Earth was cracked, a wall of debris forcing you to climb. You wasted no time, wrapping your tendrils around both V and yourself to scale the leap in a single bound. Your muscles felt well worked now, power rolling and toiling in a familiar burn with each movement. It was clear to you right away that your limits had been increased a bit, that sensation of the Void was growing in intensity. It was unfortunate that your energy needed to be saved now, but you would prefer being ready and at your peak for him over using flashy abilities any day.

V was first priority, that was all you could focus on.

You reached the top of the street just in enough time to see Dante skidding to a halt on...was that a _motorcycle?_ You thought you had heard one, but now it was definitely confirmed. Dante was riding a glowing motorcycle, the obvious makings of a battle in the road around him. Where the hell had he gotten a magic motorcycle...and why? It also looked like he was holding a nude, blonde haired woman in his arms as well. _What in the world had you missed_? You had arrived in enough time to see the horseman from earlier crumbling to pieces, finally taken down by Dante of all people. But now...

Realization clicked into place seeing the new girl. _Holy shit._ Had she been _inside_ the horseman? Dante had two friends who had gone missing, Trish and Lady, and Lady popped out of a demon days ago. So, that...definitely had to be Trish, which only made another realization click in place. Christ, you could have killed her on accident the other day, when you stabbed the demon with your tendrils. She was inside, she was alive inside the demon and you had no idea.

You blinked, paling a bit as you remembered every place you had impaled. Had you been a little bit closer to the middle...you would have _stabbed_ her. You hoped no more demons were secretly housing people inside, because otherwise how were you supposed to attack?

While you looked shocked, V was pretty used to the situation at hand. He seemed more so relieved at Dante still being here. You both stopped, examining the scene as the poet leaned heavily on his cane—fuck, he was definitely not looking good again. He was out of breath like before, just from walking a bit without Shadow. 

You worriedly tried to wrap your tendrils around him, but he skewered you with a look that clearly said “no”. You immediately froze, heart pounding with worry as you met his jade gaze. He rose a hand in a pausing motion, softening his expression as he turned to look back at Dante. Not yet, no energy yet. Wait for when it mattered. Too bad for him that any and all fatigue mattered to you.

You heard Dante speak quietly, so quietly only Trish should have been able to hear. But with your Void power activated you easily made it out.

“Whoa, looks like I took in a bit too much,” His tone was joking, face hidden as he looked down at her. His voice shifted, going even lower as he murmured to her, “You okay?”

That made your opinions of his shift. There was caring in that tone, genuine concern.

She let out a low sound of pain, replying dryly, “I’ve been better.”

He lifted her into his arms, setting her gently onto the ground with a low sigh. She immediately opened her eyes, adding urgently, “Dante, that demon is—”

“Don’t even think about it,” He replied, holding up his hands and giving her a light smile now that you could see his face, “Just rest.”

Well now. That was certainly an interesting shift from the usual, laid back non-caring tone you had heard from him before. The devil hunter was truly an enigma, something you couldn’t begin to wrap your head around.

“Dante...!” V yelled, snapping you out of your racing thoughts as he started forward, moving as fast as he could in his state. You blinked, realizing Dante was in the process of getting back on that motorcycle, definitely about to leave as V yelled again, “Wait...!”

Son of a bitch, not more chasing him down.

You went to activate your tendrils, but V falling to the ground again stopped you. He collapsed, letting out a strained grunt as his cane clattered out of his hands. You felt like your heart was going to be split in two, crouching down next to him and wrapping your arms around him to pull him up. Bad bad, this was bad. He was panting again, deathly pale as he met your worried gaze.

You heard the sound of Dante revving his motorcycle, making you both look up at him. Was he really going to leave again? It was so unbelievably frustrating, your heart pounding faster in anger now as his gaze turned to look back at you and the poet. Again...you thought you saw concern there for a second, but it disappeared faster than you could read it.

“Take care of Trish for me...!” Dante called, giving a two-finger salute before rearing back on the bike, speeding away over some debris and out of sight.  

You let out a curse, standing once more and wrapping your tendrils around V.  

 _“From the Void, Into You,”_ You muttered, ignoring V’s protests once you saw the cracking forming on his hands again. No more waiting, not when things were this dire, “You need this V, so just accept it. Please.”

He let out a low groan, his head dropping and ebony hair draping over his face. He summoned Griffon and Shadow in the next instant, Griffon letting out an indignant squawk and taking off after Dante without so much as a word. You wanted to protest that, but you honestly had no reason why Griffon shouldn’t go other than your own desire to keep the bird near. Shadow darted over to Trish’s nude body on the ground, the woman tilting her head and letting out a quiet grunt of pain.

Fuck, everything was chaos again. You focused on transferring energy to V, almost to the point of pain again before pulling away. You felt bad to put him through such discomfort, but he needed to be well enough to walk and stand.

He was panting in pain now that you were done, one of his hands reaching out to grip your arm as he breathed, “Go after Dante...!”

That made you stop in your tracks, confusion filling you as you whipped your gaze around to him.

“What? _No!”_ You protested, tugging on his grasp a bit as you stared at his handsome face, “I’m not leaving you here...!”

“I’m holding you back,” V replied, straightening his spine and wincing as he put his other hand to your face, “You can move fast enough to stop him without me limping along. He can’t afford to keep doing this on his own.”

You shook your head again, fear and anxiety curling in your stomach like a ball. You couldn’t just leave him while he was in this state, crumbling and dying. No one else was there to help him, no one but you. The very idea of leaving his side sent a spiral of worry through your entire being, one that showed no sign of ending. What were you supposed to do? What V wanted or what V needed? Dante wasn’t going to listen anyway, not to you or anyone. But...maybe talking to him would help, to try and figure out if he knew a way to help V? It was grasping for straws, really, but you didn’t know what else to do.

“I...I _can’t_ ,” You whispered, holding his hand against your cheek as your eyes burned a bit, “I can’t leave you when you’re like this...who else is going to help you if you start crumbling again? You need me more than he does.” _Please say you need me. Please._

V gave you a soft smile, those full lips mesmerizing as always as he smoothed a thumb over your cheekbones. You felt like he could tell exactly what you were thinking sometimes.

“I do need you,” He murmured, tugging you closer so he could kiss your forehead, “Which is why I’m asking you to follow him. I know I rely on you far too much, yet here I am asking more of you.”

You closed your eyes, heart pounding in your chest like fists on steel doors.

“Please,” You whispered, “I don’t want to take this risk.”

“You just gave me enough energy to last me a while,” V countered, lifting a hand and curling his fingers to emphasize his well-being. No cracking, not after the dose you had given him. But that wasn’t the point. He was deteriorating faster now, you knew that just by the short span of time in between the last time you gave him energy. But he still continued, “And you won’t be gone long. There is still plenty of time in the day, and I get the feeling Dante isn’t going far either. You will return to me sparrow; of that I have no doubts.”

You opened your eyes again to meet his jade ones, chest aching terribly at the pleading look he gave you. Damn it. _God damn it,_ how were you supposed to do anything when he made an expression like that? One that said how much he needed and trusted you, that hurt so much you could hardly stand it. He was making it even harder to leave. _You didn’t want to leave him._ You griped the lining of his vest, pulling him close enough to press your lips to his. 

This wasn’t you saying goodbye, you would never allow that. More of a promise, sealing the statement that you would be reunited with him before the day was out.  

His lips were soft and warm, his slender fingers slipping into your hair to hold you for a moment while you shared that kiss. Your mouth opened only briefly to taste him before you pulled away, not wanting to allow anything too intense. Because then you truly wouldn’t be able to leave him.

V let out a slow breath, his eyes glinting with so many emotions as he stared at your upset face. For a moment, you thought you saw hesitation in his expression, but when he spoke his voice was firm.

“Go, sparrow,” He removed his hands from you, taking a step back and picking up his cane, “I’ll take care of Trish—meet us at the bottom of the tree if you can.”

You let out a frustrated groan, running your hands through your hair as you eyed Trish on the ground. You had almost forgotten about her entirely, which made you feel bad in the chaos in your head. Making haste, you summoned your bag, pulling out a blanket to toss it at V for him to use on her. It was the best you could manage; you knew that much. You also pulled out a vial of whale oil, handing that to him and skewering him with a firm gaze.

“Don’t lose that,” Your voice was a bit raw, tone shaken as you summoned your tendrils, "Whale oil is matter conceived of my Deity. As long as you have it, I can find you.”

V nodded once, tucking the material into his vest for safe keeping. You reached up and cupped his face again before he could stop you, pressing a kiss to his forehead and making him suck in a breath.You had to say it--the words were boiling inside you, seeking release in the state you were in. What if you didn’t meet him at the bottom of the tree? What if demons attacked? You couldn’t afford these thoughts, but they existed. They filled you with an urgency that wouldn’t go away.

They made you more honest.

“Be safe. I love you, V.” You whispered, before whipping your tendrils out and beginning your chase against the demon hunter.  

You had said it, and you didn’t even get to see his reaction. You didn’t dare. But you felt like you needed to, because...

_No, you wouldn’t think that he wasn’t going to make it._

You didn’t dare look at V’s face as you leapt away, because if you did you doubted you would be able to leave. Already the distance was making you ache terribly, the worry and fear combining into a driving force that only made you go faster. The quicker you reached Dante, the quicker you could drag his sorry ass back and return to the one who mattered to you. Tunnel vision was your existence now, focusing on a single goal. This was such a bad idea, but you didn’t know what else to do at that moment. Your foresight was telling you nothing, and there were definitely things you needed to discuss with Dante when you saw him alone.

But that didn’t stop the pain toiling in your chest.

**(V POV)**

Sending you away was the hardest thing he had ever done.

Seeing your form dart the same way Dante had gone, your tendrils whipping you around and arching gracefully over debris. You were a vision, beautiful and precise. Your hair flowing, body tilting like you had done this so many times before. Even as you disappeared from sight, V stared at where you were last, jade eyes filled with silent longing. He couldn’t feel this way, couldn’t regret sending you off when it was he who had insisted upon you going. 

He truly was selfish, wasn’t he? Asking too much of you, making you go after Dante when he could tell just how much it scared and worried you. Then on top of everything else...he didn’t want you to go, wanted you by his side every waking moment. Your smile, your warmth, the feeling of your lips...he already missed it.

There was so much rattling around his skull. The guilt over his omission was still plaguing him, the look in your eyes when you saw his skin crumbling...It wouldn’t leave his mind. He never thought someone could ever care for him as much as you did. To see your expression unfold into fear, terror, and that heart breaking pain...Every lie he had told settled over him like weights, crushing him inside. There was so much he wanted to say, to do. But he couldn’t, and even after seeing how much it destroyed you he was still holding things back, hiding his truths to his chest like a shield. He wasn’t deserving of you, of your affections. And he hated himself for it.

Still, there were things that needed to be done, things more important than his self-loathing. He gripped his cane, setting about covering Trish’s body with the blanket. Careful not to look, of course. Of Dante’s friends she was the one who brought about the most discomfort. She looked just like...he shook his head, sitting down on a piece of debris and pulling out his book of poetry to read. He couldn't afford to think about that, to even compare the two. Trish seemed to have faded in and out of consciousness, so the poet wasn’t sure of how much she heard between you and him. Right now, she was out like a light, which was fine. V was prepared to wait—he knew it wouldn’t be long.

His eyes scanned the lines of text, body already beginning to ache despite the dose of energy you gave him. He knew he didn’t have much time, knew you could only hold back the inevitable so much. The goth regretted his lies to you, but...he didn’t want you to worry anymore. He knew the only outcomes to this conflict, as did Griffon. If he was successful in his quest to reach Urizen...you would still get hurt. More than hurt, it would crush you and he knew it. But what other choice did he have? Truly, he was the worst in regards to this. For once in his existence, he wished he could just leave this task. And find somewhere with you, somewhere quiet and calm away from all the white noise.

But he couldn’t. As much as those words you had spoken made him ache inside.

 _You had told him you loved him_. 

Your soft voice, filled with emotion whispering the words he didn’t know he needed to hear so badly. It was all he could think about, it filled his partial soul now more than anything ever had, so deeply personal and achingly wonderful. And worse...you didn’t give him the chance to say it back, leaving when his lips were parting with shock and emotion, his heart hurting terribly. He wanted to say it, wanted you to know just how much you mattered to him. It was his blessing and his curse now, and yours. It made him want to weep, to shout, to call you back to him. But you couldn’t. And he didn’t dare.

Instead he waited for Trish to wake up, his heart aching now that you weren’t near him. He didn’t have to wait long. The woman started stirring less than an hour later, sitting up and holding the blanket over her body. V barely spared a glance, keeping his eyes on his book as he waited for her to speak. Trish wasn’t an idiot by any stretch, she was smart and calculated from what V could tell. It helped him...disconnect from what she looked like, _who_ she looked like. 

His mind was in chaos in that moment, bouncing between you and his past memories on top of his already decaying form. His face never displayed it, expression calm as he flipped to another page he had already memorized. The poetry used to soothe him, but now...you were far more of a comfort that he needed.

When Trish finally spoke, it pulled him from his mind back into reality.

“Dante’s left...” She murmured, voice trailing off as she looked around. She didn’t sound surprised.

Still, V replied to her.

“Yes,” He said quietly, feeling her gaze quickly turn to look at him while he kept his gaze in the book, “And I don’t think he can win.”

Dante had already proven he couldn’t stand up to Urizen’s might, at least not without help. But the devil hunter was far too stubborn to change a damn thing. One of his aspects V hated.

Trish looked away when he spoke, her expression deeply troubled, “What was that demon, V? Where did it come from?” She looked back at his prone form with knowing eyes, her tone sounding deeply disturbed as she continued, "Urizen is not a demon. I know that for a fact, because I'm from the Underworld."

She paused, her expression taking on a slow look of realization as V continued to read his book. She was a smart woman, very knowledgeable when it came to demons and demonic items. It was only right and fair that she would be able to connect some dots where he was concerned, and realize he was no prim and proper human either. And it showed plainly on her face, those eyes looking right through him and his nonchalance.

“My god,” She muttered, wind making her hair drift lightly as she warily eyed the poet, “What are you, then?”

Ahh...the all-encompassing question, the one that everyone seemed so intent on asking. And when it came to her...he felt more inclined to answer. Maybe it was her knowledgeable look, or maybe it was the face she wore itself. How wouldn't he feel more trusting toward her when she looked just like—

“It doesn’t matter,” He replied, tone low and hollow as he gazed at the words in his book, seeing nothing but empty text, “I’m a shadow of my former self who lost everything.”

Trish looked away at his words, eyes wide and staring forward as several things seemed to click into place. Some people just needed to have all the answers, and she was no exception. You were similar in that way, always so curious and kind to him. But...it wasn’t the same. He welcomed your words, your knowledge, your heart. You never once looked at him with disgust or revulsion; what he was didn’t matter to you, only caring about his actions and his words over his species. Your ignorance was...part of what he knew would hurt you in the end. But right now, he couldn’t focus on that...because it only made his guilt grow, that self-loathing an all too familiar companion

V instead let out a low sigh, a bitter smile tilting his lips as he now leveled Trish with his jade gaze.

“I will tell you the story of my birth.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's keep this going kids! We're gonna break twenty chapters soon, thank you all for your kind comments and support <3 I swear I read them all and I weep every time. Ill try to reply to those of you who have asked questions <3

_Chapter 19 _

_(Your POV)_

Chasing after Dante was, shockingly, easier than expected.

He left a convenient trail of dead demons in his wake on top of motorcycle track marks. You were moving at high speeds now, your tendrils carrying you in a blur around broken buildings and roots. You remembered now, just how fast you truly were. The power of the Void was precise and calculated, it was like having several sets of arms and hands to stabilize you and launch your body towards your destinations. 

Things were definitely more chaotic here, walls of flesh and tunnels of debris weaving between the tree’s roots. Where the hell was Dante headed? He wasn’t going directly toward the tree, but more off to the side. You wracked your brain, trying to imagine what was on this half of the craters but unsure of what he was going for.

The only thing you could imagine that way was the very same house V had pointed out to you, his childhood home. But why would Dante be going there? It didn’t really make any sense. The landscape was so trash, and you literally knew nothing about Dante to even try and discern his motives. 

Still, you gave chase, keeping your eyes peeled for Griffon along the way. You had no idea how far along the bird was, but you would feel better if you at least had him near you. This area was definitely not the safest to be traveling in, not that there was a single demon to be had. Lucky for you, because you didn’t want to waste any unnecessary time.  

Other things were still rattling in your skull.

Your mind was still racing, heart hurting as you thought of V back with Trish. You had said something so deeply personally to him, then bounced before having to face his reaction. It was...both exhilarating and _terrifying_. You most certainly didn’t regret saying it to him...it needed to be said at some point. Nor did you blame him for not saying it back, especially since you never gave him the chance to. You were more easily attached than he, more prone to deep emotion. Mind you...V’s feelings toward you were never doubted, but he deserved time to think about it without you there clouding his thought. But his well-being never left your mind, worry clawing at you deep in your skin with each passing minute.

You prayed he would be alright. You wouldn’t be gone from him too long, that you were certain of.

It was unfortunate that you were already traveling alone for an hour, practically bouncing your way over each hurdle and area as fast as you could. Through a cavern under a statue, through areas Dante had already opened. This was getting ridiculous. Why was every path painstakingly _extra_? All of this foolery wasn't need at the bottom of a god damn tree, that was for sure. But it made sense that things would be far more fucked up at the Qliphoth base where it had been the longest, festering like a disease. You just didn’t have to like it, that was all.

More traveling, more panic, more worrying. But you were getting closer, you were sure. Especially so when you saw Griffon’s familiar blue feathers in the air ahead of you. 

Thank god. Traveling by yourself was going to make you go absolutely insane.

 _“Griffon...!”_ You yelled, making the bird halt a bit and whip his head around to look at you. He looked shocked, his beak popping open when you extended your tendrils, gently wrapping them around him and pulling him to your chest as you leap into the air. You were faster than he was anyway.

“Toots?!” He squawked, tucked against you kind of how a child would be, “What the hell are you _doing here?_! _Why aren’t you with Shakespeare?!”_

Just the mention of it made you wince, flinching a bit as you recalled the poet left alone, his assistance cut in half now that you and Griffon were gone.

“He told me to go after Dante...!” You said in a clearly worried tone, unhappiness in your expression as you maneuvered him and yourself around more broken building pieces, “And he wouldn’t take no for an answer!”

Griffon let out an annoyed huff at that, his feathers puffing out against your chest, “What a fucking dumbass. He shouldn’t be alone right now.”

He was most _certainly_ preaching to the choir.

“I tried to tell him...he wouldn’t listen to me,” You mumbled, pressing your chin to the top of Griffon’s head as you finally entered open air. Thank god, no more tunnels, “I didn’t want to go in the first place, I’m worried about him.”

Griffon went a bit quiet at that, which was unusual for him. You tried to steady your eyes forward, keeping track of the small amounts of energy you were exerting. Not much, nothing that impacted your ability to heal. Moving with the tendrils required practically nothing, something your body stayed accustomed to. Like riding a bike. 

Though traveling without V felt...bad, lonely despite the fact that Griffon was with you. As much as you loved and adored the bird, there was a Void he couldn’t fill, so to speak. One shaped like a tall, lanky poet in sandals. You knew it sounded silly; you had been away for just an hour. But it was less of missing him and more than painful, overwhelming fear that something bad would happen to him. Your protective streak would never leave, and it was practically clinging to your back now.

You traveled a couple moments in silence still, Griffon's lack of speech only a small worry in the back of your mind.

When he spoke, it seemed heavily reluctant.

“Ahh, fuck,” He muttered, beak tilted down and talons flexing a bit as he struggled with his words, “I think I need to apologize to you, and I’m really shitty at apologies.”

You blinked in surprise at that, wrapping an arm around him to brace him as you skidding over the ground, narrowly missing some shattered trees and debris. The terrain was hard to get through here.

“For what?” You asked quietly, landing on your feet and settling on a brisk jog as you made your way up a hill.

He paused again, making confusion prickle at the back of your mind as he took another moment to gather his words.

“F...for not warning you about Shakespeare,” He mumbled, unable to meet your eyes as his feathers puffed out a bit more. Like he wanted to hide, “You didn’t deserve to find out that way, like that and shit. I knew he was going to start falling apart but I half hoped his dumb ass would make it up the tree before that.”

That made your feet falter, heart thudding painfully once it clicked what Griffon was apologizing about. You had forgotten the look Griffon had worn those few times you had spoken, that knowing expression. You realized pretty quick that he knew, so that wasn’t a shock. But...his guilt was. He sounded unhappy with himself, unhappy with his choice of omission to you. What were you supposed to say? Part of you felt like you should be upset, but...there was too much at stake, too much to worry about other than that.

“It’s...okay.” You replied hesitantly, unable to formulate your own feelings.

“The fuck it is...!” Griffon squawked angrily, whipping around to snap his beak by your ear, “You need to start standing up for yourself, girlie...! I knew how you felt but I still didn’t say shit! You should be mad about that, damn it!”

He...had a point in there, somewhere. But you had the feeling he wanted you to be mad just to help ease his guilt

“I...I know...” You mumbled, leaning your head back to avoid his angry snapping, “But you’re my friend...and I don’t like being upset with you about something that doesn’t matter, not now.”

Griffon let out a pained groan at that, leaning his head back dramatically and exposing the lighter colored feathers on his throat.

“Fuck, now I feel _worse,_ ” He hissed, sounding half way exasperated and half was frustrated, “I tell you I withheld shit from you and you say we’re friends and _wanna smooch and make up...!”_

That kind of made you smile, just seeing his over-dramatic display of suffering. You could tell Griffon was trying, in his own asshole-ish way. You doubted the bird had to ever apologize for anything before in his life, nor did you think he ever wanted to. It made you feel a bit better about everything, as if it somehow confirmed Griffon actually did care.

So you leaned forward, giving him a small kiss on his head and making him scrunch up a bit. Huffy as always, but you didn’t care.

“There,” You replied, starting forward again and setting his grumbling form on your shoulders, “I kissed, we made up. Deal?”

He let out another annoyed sound, but he looked secretly pleased. He was a lot easier to read than V was, that was for sure.

“Still,” He muttered, tone sounding hesitant and quiet as he continued hurriedly, “You should know toots, about Shakespeare—”

But you weren’t paying attention.

You spotted Dante’s form as soon as you crested the hill. With that silvery-white hair he was easy to see, along with his red jacket and giant god damn sword. He didn’t seem to notice you or the bird, strolling leisurely toward.. _.the house._ The one V had shown you before, his childhood home. You had been correct in your assumptions, this was indeed Dante’s destination, but...why? There of all places, a crumbling mansion now that you were seeing it up close. A portrait was hanging in the crumbling foyer still, dirtied and sullied by time.  

You could barely make out the face of a woman, who you assumed to be V’s mother. Maybe? There looked to be a man in the photo, sitting with the family but his face was blackened by a past fire. With the woman was...two children? At least what you could make out—the portrait seemed so old, especially for a day and age of photography and technology. Maybe their mother had it done custom? Or maybe the portrait wasn’t of them at all, maybe it was some random painting the family kept hanging in their foyer because it looked nice. But that didn’t feel right either, especially since both boys had white hair.  

Two boys with white hair. Did V have a brother? He never admitted it, never mentioned it. But you looked at Dante, eyeing his own white locks as about a thousand questions traveled through you. Were...Dante and V related? Hell, Nero had white hair too. And that seemed like a pretty unique genetic trait. The more you thought about it, the less it made sense. V was super young still, like around the same age as Nero, whereas Dante looked to be in his forties at most. The boys in the portrait seemed to be twins, at least they looked pretty similar in age.

Ancestors maybe? This was a mess.  

Regardless, you had something to do here.

 _“Dante...!”_ You yelled, cutting off whatever Griffon was going to say as you started running closer, _“Wait...!”_

The Devil hunter paused at the sound of your voice, turning slightly so side eye you and the bird as you caught up to him. He looked bemused, albeit exasperated to see you. Despite all the demons he obviously had to fight to get here, he was free of scratches or wounds of any kind. Either he was a great fighter, or he had some seriously great healing skill. Or both.  

“You just don’t give up the chase, do you?” He commented, turning and crossing his arms over his chest. 

He definitely didn't seem happy that you and V were prone to not listening to him, that was for sure. It was hard for you to care in that moment, especially after following his trail for so long.

You mimicked the pose, letting out a heavy sigh as you replied, “No I don’t, not after chasing you for this damn long.”  

It was about to hit the two-hour mark, and you weren’t happy about it in the slightest bit. Giving chase definitely wasn’t your favorite thing, and it was beginning to rain again to top it all off. You were willing to drag Dante back kicking and screaming if you had to. But...your Foresight did not like that. At all.

The moment the thought entered your head, it sent a warning jolt through your body, making you grunt a bit and touch your abdomen. What the hell, you weren’t supposed to stop Dante from leaving? Then why had your Foresight not told you that before you came all the way here? It made no sense. _It made no sense._ You couldn’t remember a mission where the power had been this indecisive, this inconsistent.

It was starting to piss you off.

Dante’s voice jarred you from the cascading anger at your own body, the man seeming oblivious to your internal conflict.

“Why are you following me anyway?” He asked, shaking some of the water droplets from his hair and turning his gaze away. He sounded overly nonchalant, tone ever lazy and bemused, “You seemed pretty friendly with that poet back there, so why come after me?”

You let out a low sigh, feeling incredibly strung out as you replied, “Because V asked me to. You shouldn’t be going up the tree alone anyway, not with how dangerous it is.”

You were trying really hard to figure out Dante, what kind of person he was. What made him tick. He seemingly showed no reaction to your words, other than tilting his head back to look at you again. His eyes confused you—they were wise somehow, on a face that seemed anything but. You felt like the Devil hunter was searching your face, sizing you up with a single glance. It made you a bit uncomfortable, that sensation of your secrets hiding on your spine returning once more.

“Someone has to stop the kid from killing himself,” He replied simply, turning to walk forward into the derelict mansion again, “Dontcha think?”

You reached out a hand, grabbing his arm to halt him as you protested, “Yeah but these things would be easier if we all stayed together...!” You were willing to bet Dante was the reason the group split up so damn much, it was driving you up a wall. Why was it so hard for everyone to just work together to reach a common goal?

Your Foresight didn’t like you touching Dante, not one bit. Or maybe it didn’t like you stopping him? Either way, it made a jolt of pain shoot up your abdomen to your chest, making you wince. Dante seemed to not notice, either that or he didn’t show any sign of it. Instead, he sighed, looking somewhat annoyed now as he looked at you. Impertinence was there behind that smirk, his brow slightly furrowed.

“And just what do you gain out of this, Miss Priestess?” He asked, raising a brow in your direction. The name made you jolt, remembering that Dante was not as oblivious as he seemed.

He knew what you were, and that was another concern you had.

“What do you mean?” You asked warily, frowning at the overly chipper tone he used. It definitely sounded close to taunting, at least to your ears.

Dante put his hands on his hips, rain water dripping over those white locks and causing them to stick to his rugged face.  

“I know your kind,” He said simply, shrugging his shoulders and eyeing you with a bit of a smirk in his expression. That tone was condescending, taunting as he let out a light laugh, “What does the boss upstairs want out of this world? To lay a claim if everything falls apart? To snatch the fruit that tree is gonna grow?”

The boss upstairs...he must have meant the Deity. Who was less “upstairs” and more in between everything. Still, what he was saying struck a chord of annoyance with you, especially since it sounded pretty damn accusatory.

You blinked in confusion, holding up your hands as you replied indignantly, “I  don't know what you're implying, but my Deity doesn’t want anything...!”

Dante scoffed lightly at that, inclining his head as he replied, “Every ‘Deity’ wants somethin’.”

He wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t right either. And worse, he was bringing all your doubting back, all the horrible thoughts that refused to leave you. Anxiety was bubbling up again, threatening to choke you like bile rising in your throat. Already volatile, you felt like a bomb getting ready to tick off. You definitly had your doubts about your Deity, questions that were going unanswered and no sign of your master at all to guide you. It was already maddening and breaking you down, so Dante’s implications were both unneeded and unwanted.

Griffon had been with you long enough to sense your moods, eyes darting between you and Dante as he said in a warning tone, “Dante, you’d better lay off.”

Dante turned, pointing a single, warning finger at Griffon’s avian features as he replied, "Flock off, feather face.”

You fought another sigh. Things were only getting more out of hand, but it was under your skin now. An itch you couldn’t ignore.

“You don’t know a damn thing about what my Deity wants," You told him, feeling even more unhappy that you had come to find him. What the hell was even the point, wasting time like this? "I have better things to do than sitting here arguing with you...!”

V was still alone, and he was crumbling. Your Foresight was telling you not to stop Dante, or else. So why bother staying here letting him shit talk things he didn’t understand? You half turned your body again, ready to summon your tendrils outward to bounce away. If Dante wanted to do things on his own and get himself killed, he could be stubborn all he wanted. You would focus on the people that mattered. Like V, Nero, Lady, Nico.  

But the devil hunter wasn’t done.

He let out a low hum, his tone almost pleasant and conversational as he added, “So tell me. What do you serve to gain by using Mister Poet back there?”

Your blood ran cold. Very very cold.

“... _Excuse me_?” You whispered, blinking in shock and not understanding exactly what he was implying as you turned back to look at his face.

He shrugged his shoulders again, crossing his arms as his blue eyes locked with yours.

“You heard me,” He replied, his expression taking on a more serious look as he continued, “You seem chummy with V, but I know your type. You’d do the same for anyone if it meant getting what your big bad God wants.”

Your mouth popped open in shock.

Indignation, anger, and pain all ripped through you. It became pretty god damn clear what he was implying, and it stung like nothing else. _He thought you were using V,_ pretending to care about him just to succeed in your mission. You were determined to get close to people at first, but romance was never something you would fake for results. Hell, you didn’t fake liking _anyone_ if it wasn’t genuine. To have him look you in the face and accuse you of such a thing made your blood boil and eyes burn. 

You could not cry, not now.

“You don’t know a damn thing about me...!” You replied, tone low and promising violence as you balled up your fists, “I’m not using V for anything...!”

“’Ya see, that’s where I don’t believe you,” Dante clicked his tongue, turning away from you and starting for the house again, “You priestess types are all the same. Though screwing a dying man to get what you want is pretty harsh, all things considered. Gotta give him something in return for using him, right?”

You had _enough._

Your tendrils whipped out in the next instant, grabbing every part of Dante you could reach and slamming him to the ground. You were shocked, he put up no resistance at all in the face of your rage. He didn’t even look surprised when you whipped him around, your own face filled with so many emotions you weren’t sure what to focus on. Anger, pain, fear, more anger.

Your day had been an avalanche of misery after a night of some of the only happiness you had tasted in such a long time. The man you cared about was dying, and you sure didn’t fucking appreciate Dante’s harsh words when things were so dire. How he even knew about you having sex with V, you didn’t know. Maybe he guessed. But his guesses were unwanted.

Your hand cracked against his face in a fluid motion, making him let out a grunt but he was still smirking lightly. It all happened so fast. Grabbing him, flipping him, hitting him. It felt less than a second. But you didn’t care.

 _How dare he._ How dare he imply that you would give yourself to V for the sake of doing what your Deity wanted? You weren’t a whore to sell yourself to people at a God’s bidding. V was everything, and he mattered to you more than the mission itself. Hell, you didn’t know there was something wrong with him at the time, something that would mean his death. And knowing so now was agonizing, breaking you down and leaving you in a state of non-stop dread. V made you happy, and things that made you happy always ended up snatched away.

Your eyes turned black with your rage, hair raising slightly and tendrils twitching sporadically. Your Foresight was screaming at you, telling you to stop and let him go. Agonizing, making your limbs weak and tendrils uncontrollable. That tipped you off pretty fast that Dante wasn’t fighting back on purpose--he could easily escape in the state you were in right at that moment. You were fighting your own body, your own rage just to be able to make a point to the Devil Hunter.

You hated how emotional you were, but that was only par for the course as you gripped Dante’s coat and yanked him up.

 _“Don’t you presume to know a damn thing about me..._!” You hissed, eyes burning with tears that slid down your cheeks against your will. God damn it. _God damn it,_ “You don’t know anything about what I feel about him, or _how much he means to me...!”_

Dante stayed quiet, staring at you with a neutral expression as your aching hands began to shake.  

Griffon was squawking in alarm, his talons gripping your shoulders and trying to haul you back as he screeched, _“Not a good idea, toots...! Back off, he isn’t worth it...!”_

You didn’t care. And you wouldn’t be swayed.

“If I had my way I wouldn’t even be here talking to you...!” Your voice was growing hoarse now with your tears, panting breaths leaving you as the pain continued, “He has no one else but me in this fucking hell, no one else who cares! Yet I came after you because he asked me to and _you...you...”_

To disregard what you felt so heavily, what tore you up inside. Brush it off like it was dust settling on his shoulders. It stung far too much.

_How were you expected to change anything when it felt like everything wanted to stop you?_

“I _love_ him.” You whispered, head slumping on your shoulders as you finally released Dante, sitting back on your legs as the pain finally subsided. You couldn’t see his expression, couldn’t see anything but rain dripping from your locks. But it didn’t matter, you didn’t feel like you were talking to him now anyway. He was of little consequence, all things considered.

“I love him and _he’s dying_. And that’s not _fair._ ”

_Nothing ever is. That’s why you sold your soul, isn’t it?_

Dante was quiet for a couple more seconds, letting out a hefty sigh as he sat up. Your tendrils dropped away from him, returning back to your body as the Void power simmered to a dull roar. You didn’t know what to say now, what to feel after such an outburst. You weren’t used to losing your cool and lashing out like that. 

Perhaps you were learning a lot of new things about yourself with everything that was going on. That feeling came back, the feeling of wanting to go home but having no home to go to. V felt like home to you, and losing him would break you more than you realized. What were you supposed to do? You could barely handle things now, when he wasn’t even gone. Holding onto hope was hard, but you were trying.

Much to your shock, you felt Dante place a hand on your hair, giving you a comforting pat on the head. You blinked, breath catching at the action. It felt like something a dad should do, something you certainly didn’t expect from the demon hunter.

“I’ve learned all I needed to know,” He said simply, rising to his feet and extending a hand to you, “Sorry about how harsh I was, but sometimes that’s the best way to learn someone’s true intentions.”

You blinked more, looking at his hand then up at him. He was smiling again, but there was a concerned look in his eyes once they met yours. You were so confused, and it definitely showed on your face.

“You...were trying to get a reaction from me?” You whispered, tone still raw and eyes going back to normal now that your power was settling, “But...why?”

Dante let out a light sigh, scratching the back of his head with his free hand.

“Some servants of higher ups can be skeevy,” He huffed, rubbing his cheek you had struck and wearing a bit of a bemused smile, “Hard to disbelieve you when you react like that. You’ve got a mean right hook on you, kid.”

So...all that was a test to see if you felt how you truly said you did? You hesitantly took his free hand, wiping your eyes with your other. You were settling down now, but you still weren’t happy with how Dante went about doing it. But...he was right to mistrust the servants of gods—you had met a few less than savory ones yourself. They tended not to like people like you, who obeyed the beings that existed in between spaces. Trickery and deceit was at its finest when it came to working alongside priests and priestesses from other pantheons, especially ones specifically aligned with the notorious “good” and “evil” gods. Such alignments were bullshit, both sides would throw you under the bus to reach their goal.

You weren’t like that.

“Sorry...” You muttered to Dante, releasing his hand once he helped you up, “But...I haven’t had the best day today, and you really didn’t help.” You weren’t having the best existence, to be honest.  

“People show their true colors when pressed to a wall,” Dante rolled his shoulders a bit, testing his muscles after you had flung him around. You knew damn well he held back on purpose. Had he actually retaliated against you when you attacked...He would have wiped the floor with you, “Consider us even now. No hard feelings.”

You nodded, but you weren’t sure how else to reply. Griffon landed on your shoulders again, letting out a relieved sigh as he looked between you and the demon hunter. You were willing to bet that little situation had certainly ruffled his feathers, that was for sure.

Dante seemed a tad bit amused by how the bird acted around you, but that amusement faded when he let out another hefty sigh.

“This isn’t your fight, kid,” Dante told you, face turning a bit serious before he went to turn away, “Go back to the poet and make sure he's alright. Shit still has time to work out—I've been surprised before.”

You blinked at that, taking a few steps after him as he entered the house. It was crumbling apart, decaying around the edges where it looked like fire struck. What the hell had happened that day, when V was a child? You could see just hints of a happy life here, beneath the soot and decay. It made you ache, seeing something so lived in now an empty husk resting on the edge of the world. Dante didn’t seem oblivious to it, staring around at the mansion's remains with something akin to wistfulness. Like he was remembering something. But...why? Especially when V had said this was his childhood home?

There were so many things you didn’t know.

“Dante...?” You said hesitantly, hanging back as he turned and gazed at the former home, “What are you going to do?”

He didn’t answer your question, turning back and looking at the portrait you saw earlier.

“A demonic power was activated in me once,” He said, pulling out what looked to be a broken sword from behind his coat. It seemed to be demonic in origin too, the blade snapped off and leaving only jagged edges behind, “When Vergil lovingly jammed this through my chest.”

 _...Vergil?_

_Who was Vergil?_

You blinked in confusion, looking at Griffon with a questioning stare. That name felt...strange. It elicited a strange twinge up your spine. Familiar, but also not. Had someone mentioned the name before this? You...couldn’t remember. You had hoped Griffon would bring some clarity. But the bird was staring at Dante, water dripping from his sapphire feathers.

“I always wondered...why did my father give me the Rebellion?” Dante muttered, his voice barely audible to you as he palmed the sword in hand. 

Was it named the Rebellion...? People in this word seemed big on naming swords, and it was confusing for you to keep up with. And better yet, who was Dante’s father? It seemed heavily relevant, at least to him in his own little world.

Griffon let out a confused sound too, hopping off your shoulders so he could fly over to Dante and circle him, “Okay, what are you muttering?” He asked, eyeing the demon hunter warily. He kept further than an arms length, making sure he wasn’t grabbed again.

Dante let out a light, breathy chuckle, sounding pretty rueful as he looked at Griffon. Completely ignoring his question, mind you.

“Over the years I’ve been stabbed and jabbed by a number of things,” He commented, lifting the hilt of the broken blade and staring at it with a faraway look, “But who would have guessed...”

You were completely unprepared when he flipped it around, stabbing the remainder of the blade hard into his abdomen.

Shock and panic filled you, eyes wide as the Demon hunter stumbled back, letting out a pained grunt as some of his own blood pattered onto the wet floor. _What in the world was he doing?!_ You couldn’t even open your mouth to ask, absolutely stunned into silence as Dante panted, obviously in pain from stabbing himself. Just when you thought you had the demon hunter figured out, he completely scrambled your opinions of him all over again. Dante was an enigma, one you were afraid had just mortally fucking wounded himself when you all needed him the most. What the hell was going on?

Things were getting way too insane.

Griffon was, luckily, more composed than you. He echoed exactly what you were thinking...with his own flare.

 _“Have you lost your mind?!_ ” He shrieked, flapping wildly as he hovered around the bent-over demon hunter, “ _There’s a demon to destroy...! Kill yourself later—I'll help...!”_

Your mouth opened as well, letting out a shocked whisper of, “ _Dante...!”_

But something was happening.

Dante was panting, teeth grinding in agony as he lifted his head. His hands were still clutching the sword, impaled into his body like it was nothing.

“If the Yamato can separate man from devil,” He gritted out, seeming oblivious to both of you, “Then what about the Rebellion?”

He twisted the blade harder into his flesh, letting out an agonized grunt as the sword began to glow. Brighter and brighter like fire, disintegrating into his body. _Absorbed into it_. That fire spread out in spider-webbing energy trails over him, all the way to his back where the Devil Sword Sparda rested. You stared in shock and awe, taking a few steps back while Dante stood, panting as his energy grew and grew, until the air was crackling with it. 

What the hell was happening? The Devil sword began to disintegrate too, sucked into Dante’s glowing form until it was gone completely. Your Void sense rolled and toiled in warning, signaling you to get the fuck out of the way before something bad happened.  

Signaling to you that Dante was doing something downright fucking amazing. Dangerously amazing.

But Griffon wasn’t aware, staring at Dante with the same shock and awe you felt.

“Wow...” He said in a low tone, flapping his wings to keep him hovering in air as he rasped, “You are... _absorbing the Sparda...!”_

You felt the energy cultivate around Dante’s form, telling you plain and clear it was time to move. Your tendrils shot out, grabbing Griffon and yanking him to your chest just as you dipped behind a wall to shield you both.  Energy crackled out in the next instant, sending out a shock wave that rumbled through the Earth and the structure still standing against the rain. The Void power spiked, hating the sensation of an opposing energy type as it practically wrapped around the entire area. You panted lightly, rain dripping down your face and hair as you held a startled bird against you, both of you peeking out to see what happened.

Boy, were you absolutely _stunned._

In the place of Dante was what could only equate to a demon. Sharp claws, fire licking parts of his glowing body with spikes and horns. It looked like he was armored, any trace of the familiar demon-hunters face now gone. You blinked, staring in shock as he turned slightly to look at you, his face completely different. Sharp teeth, flaming eyes...it was terrifying and incredible, you weren’t sure what to think, what to say, what to do. Dante was a half demon, that had already been explained to you. But no one had mentioned Dante being able to take on a demonic form, not unless this was new and unique to him stabbing himself and absorbing the Devil Sword Sparda?

At least you knew not to touch Dante in this form. Your Void power was pretty firm on that, and the power of Sparda certainly didn’t like you either.

Regardless, you stared at Dante’s panting, growling for. Unable to move an inch as he turned away. He bent his knees, leathery wings stretching out in a telltale sign of him getting ready to fly. You ducked back behind the debris to avoid the shock wave from that, wood and rocks flying out when he shot off from the ground, into the sky. You gasped, stepping out with water dripping into your eyes as you stared at him spiraling up toward the top of the Qliphoth. Holy shit. There was no way you could follow that, not now after running all the way here.

But Griffon could.

You released the bird, feeling him push off against you and shoot into the sky after Dante. Slower, panting in annoyance as he did so.

 _“Go back to Shakespeare!”_ He yelled down to you, not stopping as he arced into the sky. Pretty gracefully, in your opinion, _“You get his sorry ass to the tree! We’ll meet you there...!”_

You nodded once, activating your tendrils again as you yelled back at him, _“Be safe, Griffon...!”_

He didn’t respond, but then again you weren’t sticking around to hear it anyway.  

You had a bad feeling that shit was about to go down, energy bursting out of you as your tendrils whipped out again, bringing you in the direction of V. You activated your senses, eyes turning black to search out the whale oil you knew he had. Everything was swirling in your head now, the day’s events certainly startling and a lot to handle. But you kept moving, able to tell where V was right away and making haste to get there. He wasn’t where you left him, probably moving forward with Trish once she woke up. You hoped the poor woman could find clothes; nothing would suck more than walking around in just a blanket.

You also prayed she would be able to help V in your absence. It would take less time to get to them than it did Dante, so there was that at least. They were headed for the base of the tree, and those paths intersected at some point.  

You gritted your teeth, feeling the energy inside toil harder and faster now that you were free from having to chase Dante. You felt like you were exceeding your limits more, still growing now that things were so dire. Ready for anything, at least. You wanted to return to V, wanted to make sure he was safe and not crumbling again. Griffon was a smart bird, but you worried for him too, heading up the Qliphoth to chase after Dante. What were you supposed to feel in that moment? You didn’t want to go numb to it all, but you felt like you had no choice.

There was so much going on. So much to do. So much at stake. But still, you pressed onward, heart-pounding as you sought to be reunited with your poet once more.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the uploading schedule being as it is. Doing my best yall. Very sleepy

_Chapter 20_

_(V POV)_

Trish was understandably quiet as they walked toward the Qliphoth tree.

V knew she would be, especially after all he had told her about himself. About...everything. The poet couldn’t fathom why he felt the need to do so, and especially her of all people. Maybe he thought she would provide some insight, some guidance of any kind? As much as he was hoping, telling someone didn’t really ease the burden on his shoulders, or the pain of it all. The guilt, despair, and desperation were all still there, clawing its way through his chest to his throat. He felt like he needed to tell someone, but...with you, he knew it would only cause you more pain, more heartbreak. There would be no happy ending to the time he shared with you, and that alone was enough to make him hate every part of his existence.

What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t find the will to tell you. He knew what he needed to do when he reached Urizen, there would be no choice in the matter.

_You always had the choice to warn her. But you decided not to, because you are a coward. You don’t want to face her pain now, when it means something to you._

You were the only comfort in his life, and he was going to hurt you like this.

_Because later...It will mean nothing, won’t it?_

His teeth ground a bit, hand griping his cane tighter as he struggled to keep up with the blond-haired woman. Panting, limping, exhausted. The energy you gave him had faded fast now that he was moving, not wanting to use Shadow to travel because Trish definitely wanted no part of that. It felt...wrong when it wasn’t you. She seemed in no mood to wait up for him either, and he was in no mood to argue it. The goth only wallowed in his own self-loathing, still wishing you were beside him despite how utterly selfish it felt. He was a fool, and a cruel one at best. And acknowledging what he must do to stop this calamity from continuing, to keep himself alive...it only made the pain worse to bear.

But he remained silent, Trish’s words echoing in his head.

_I’m not your mommy, V. You’re a big boy—and you need to see this through. Dante’s war._

She was right, of course. He had a duty to see through, it was his mistakes that caused all of this tragedy. The fighting, the death, the blood-stained earth...it was his job to fix, despite his own wants and emotions. Despite what he felt for you. And that was what hurt most of all, the idea that in the end you would become another unfortunate victim of his bad decisions, his greed. Just like every human sacrificed to the Qliphoth tree. The thought made his steps falter a bit, eyes squeezing shut as your expression at the time he started crumbling replayed in his mind. Your shock, your horror...How ironic that now your tears would mix with the blood on his hands, burning his insides until he crumbled into nothingness.  

He deserved this suffering. You didn’t.

“Does _she_ know?” Trish said suddenly, making the poet flinch and snap out of his thoughts.  

It was the first words she had spoken since they had started walking, her eyes usually forward and mouth firmly shut. V looked at her, the woman now gazing back with a frown planted firmly on her lips.  

“...I beg your pardon?” He inquired, voice a little strained and hoarse. He didn’t know why he was asking...he had the feeling of who she meant.

He just didn’t want to answer this question in the first place.

Trish stopped walking, making him pause as well as she stared at a crevice stretching in front of them. The tree was close now, so close V almost gagged at the smell of it. Ash, rotting bodies, blood. _So much blood._ Trish winced as well, her nose scrunching up as she turned her gaze back to V once more. The woman was luckily dressed now, wearing her usual attired of revealing, tight black leather. Something about it made V heavily uncomfortable, resisting the urge to look away from her serious gaze. Or maybe that was his desire to ignore the question making him not want to stare at her?  

“That girl from before,” She replied, crossing her arms over her chest and staring him down with eyes he felt could cut right through him, “Who was she, anyway? I heard enough of what you both were saying to tell she was close to you.”

V felt his body stiffen at the mention of you, that guilt gnawing at him even more now that someone like Trish was calling him out. It felt like she knew exactly what he had been thinking about, like she could sense his innermost turmoil. It was strange though, he neither expected her to notice it, nor for her to speak out. She didn’t know you at all, but her tone sounded heavily displeased. Not that he could blame her. His own actions and mission were displeasing to himself as well, a constant weight on his already aching back.

“We...met her in Redgrave,” He replied slowly, turning to meet her heavy gaze from under his own lashes. They wouldn’t protect him from her sharp glare, that was for certain, “She offered to come along and help us. And...no. She doesn’t know what I am, only... that I am falling apart _. And you will not be informing her.”_

Trish’s brows touched her hairline at that firm comment near the end, her eyes narrowing a bit on the poet's face. His wording definitely didn’t jive well with the woman, that was plain in her expression.

“Are you using her?” She asked in an annoyed tone, sounding as if she was promising swift violence based on his answer, “Didn’t think you were the type to stoop so low. Might not be my business but it’s cruel to lead a girl on.”

Something about the way she said that made annoyance ripple along his spine. Like petting a cat the wrong way. They were wasting time on this conversation when they should have been heading for the tree, meeting back up with you. V would be lying if he said her words didn’t sting, like daggers cutting into his chest. You were more to him that she could ever understand, so why trying defending himself? He cared about you, craved you, needed you. But... _was she wrong?_ He was using you in a way, using your energy, your kindness, your affections. It was tearing him apart, and Trish could never understand that. But what did it matter?

He was worried about your safety, and he wanted to keep moving.  

But...why couldn’t he just let it go? His jade eyes were tired, his tone defensive when he replied, “I wouldn’t dream of leading her on. What I feel for her is genuine, and I don’t have to explain that to you.”

V griped his cane, turning to start walking toward the tree again, but Trish grabbed his arm and stopped him. Why couldn’t she just let the topic drop? He turned, a scowl tilting his full lips as he met her gaze again. The pain and deterioration were making him irritable, even more so now that you weren’t by his side. All the goth wanted was to go, but Trish seemed firmly against it.

“All the more reason why she should know,” Trish made a face, staring at the poet incredulously as she continued, “You fell in love with this girl? Being half a person, crumbling like you are? And she doesn’t know? You’re going to just string her along and then leave her to mourn you?”

So many questions, all the ones he didn’t want to answer.

“Why does it concern you?” He replied, tone harsher than he intended. Closer to a growl, filled with exhaustion as his jade gaze landed on her face. She blinked, probably never seeing such emotion from the poet before, but he couldn’t care, “Does me having emotions jar you so heavily? She is everything...and I am nothing. I know what my actions will do to her, but she deserves to be happy in the time we have. She deserves her hope.”

You deserved more than him. Better than him.

Trish could only stare at the ebony haired man, the breeze sending her blond hair waving gently to the side. He was never good at reading people, and he didn’t know her very long. But there was shock in her gaze, and... disappointment. Like his words had hit a heavy chord with her.  Maybe it was due to her being a woman, wanting to look out for you. And how could he blame her? Or Nico and Lady, for that matter? There was a purity to you, that gentle kindness and affection that filled a room. Trish sounded just like the other women just after glancing upon you. A _motherly_ thing. Which seemed far too fitting, hitting him like a fist to the gut. Her expression made him feel glum, scummy. Like was being scolded by his—

_Stop._

He gritted his teeth, pulling his arm away and wincing at the flecks of crumbling skin. He said nothing, but then again, he didn’t have to. Trish crossed her arms again, tilting her head to the side as she addressed him. What she spoke made his thoughts freeze in an instant, her tone almost accusatory.

“From what I heard of him... _I didn’t think Vergil was capable of love.”_

Well now. If hearing that name wasn’t a slap to the face.

V let out a low, bitter laugh, putting a hand to his forehead and leaning over a bit, bracing his weight on the cane. Something about the whole situation was ironic and amusing, in a very dark way. From what she heard of _“Vergil”_... of course Dante would have told others about his twin brother, why wouldn’t he? His words had been less than kind, obviously not praising his power-hungry sibling. Why did that sting? He had every right to paint a bad image of the man, dealing with all the things he had over the years. And V....he hated himself too, so why should Dante’s hate be any surprise?

_You are a fool._

“So easily you forget,” He breathed, a bitter smirk on his lips as he met Trish’s gaze again, “I am his humanity. Contrary to what you have been told, Vergil is capable of emotion, and as for me... I can assure you I feel it heavier than you can imagine.”

V took a few steps closer to her, limping and slow. His memories as Vergil, his memories of you...he knew what Trish was thinking, and he could understand. But she could never comprehend what he was, what he felt, what he craved.

Still, he continued. His gait slow as he gritted out through his teeth, “I feel the self-loathing. The disgust. The pain. The regret.”

He stopped in front of her, panting as he observed her expression, that surprised look in her eyes as he kept his lips moving.

“The disgust you feel for him is nothing compared to my own,” He rasped, voice raw as his hand griped his cane so hard his knuckles were white, “And what I feel for _her_ cannot compare. So, spare me the prattle—I know what Dante thinks of his brother, and he is entitled to those emotions. But neither of you could ever comprehend what she has done for me, the feelings she stirs. I do love her—I love Y/N with every part of my broken, brittle human soul. _His_ human soul. And the idea of hurting her is far more painful than any words you could say to me.”

He turned away from Trish, caring not for the shock on her face as he started walking toward the tree once more. The conversation had exhausted him, drawing out the internal turmoil he already felt like ripping open a wound not yet healed. You were the balm on those wounds, and he had sent you after Dante. He only hoped and prayed Trish would remain silent, and let things happen as they were supposed to. Knowing everything he had hidden would crush you, hurt you, break you. And he couldn't bear to see it. He would suffer through the self-hatred, the despair and the hopelessness alone. 

And you...he would give you all the love he could in the time he had, until he could give no more. It was all he could think to do, all he wanted.

Trish opened her mouth, sucking in a breath behind him like she was going to speak. V didn’t particularly care for whatever she was going to say, but the woman never got the chance.

Everything around them started rumbling and shaking.  

V gasped, stumbling and slamming his cane into the dirt to try and steady his already wobbly form, looking up at the tree causing the disturbance in shock. _What the hell was happening?_ Trish grunted, stumbling as well when the earth began crumbling away, already on the verge of collapse due to the effects of the roots ripping apart the landscape. Something had happened. _Something had happened with Urizen._ V couldn’t discern what yet—it could have been Nero, Dante, or the tree--it was bound to reach its peak of blood consumption at any moment. 

The idea of it being Dante frightened him, especially considering he had sent you after the demon hunter. He prayed to any being that would listen that you weren’t up in that tree without him, that you were safe.

The same couldn’t be said of him.

The ground underneath him shifted, falling away suddenly and sending him into a dead drop. He let out an alarmed shout, feeling Trish’s hand firmly grab his wrist before he could plummet into the abyss below. This wasn't good, this was definitely not good. He gasped, looking down before darting his gaze up to the straining blond. She was on her stomach, struggling to hold him while the rest of the ground around her began to crack. It was too much weight, both him and Trish combined. He didn’t dare summon Shadow, and Griffon was still gone. What was he supposed to do?

He was going to fall, Trish along with him.

_(Your POV)_

Faster, you had to go faster.

A feeling of foreboding filled you once you reached the edge of the crevice, traveling alongside it in a desperate rush to reach V.

The ground started rumbling, shaking pieces of debris tumbling down into the abyss. You gasped, gripping onto as much as you could and launching yourself along the gaping hole to avoid falling. You were suspending in midair for a moment, closing your eyes and focusing on everything around you. Body flipping gracefully, senses alert and taking in everything at once. The tree was causing the tremor, sending the edges of cracked earth shattering in places and falling. Unstable, already on the verge of collapse before this whole god damn mess. 

What the hell was going on up there? You had only been away from Dante for a few moments, but it seemed like he was up to something up in the Qliphoth.  

Chaos was in control now, the dead husks of trees shaking and swaying before splintering to the ground. Your gaze whipped around, searching for anything to grapple onto with the tendrils, anything that would keep you upright. Bad, this was bad. You hopped between falling pieces of debris, heart pounding as you kept your Void gaze activated, searching for the whale oil. It was so close, so much so that it made your energy swirl in your abdomen and chest. V was nearby, but that was a fear in itself. 

Everything was collapsing, and you were terrified of him falling into the abyss below without Griffon there to aid him. You had to hurry, propelling yourself along and arcing through a narrow opening between sliding pieces of the Earths plate. This was so dangerous, but you had enough time practicing on floating debris in the Void to be good at it. You wouldn’t be stopped.

It wasn’t until the horizon line was within your sights did you spot the blessed, familiar form of your poet. But even then, the relief would not come.

Your heart nearly stopped at the sight of him dangling over the edge of a cliff, Trish barely holding onto him by one arm. Everything seemed to freeze for a moment, you suspended in air, eyes ever calculated as you watched the cliff Trish was on start to crack. Ready to fall as well. Your brain was working overtime, looking at the distance between you and them, looking at the crumbling earth, looking at the drop below. Feather fall wouldn’t save you all in a drop like that, especially when it was so far down. The land was too unstable to grab onto them both and fling them to safety—there was nowhere to find purchase, no areas to latch in your tendrils. Think, you needed to think.

It was time to do something risky.

Neither V nor Trish noticed you, but that didn’t matter. You needed to be fast. You had extended your limits, and your energy was still pretty high all things considered. This was something you could handle if you timed it right and used your head—V wasn’t going to die here. You saw briefly that he was crumbling again, but you would worry about that later. Focus now. You inhaled as much as you could, letting it settle in your lungs and turn into frost as you propelled yourself over to the two, right as Trish began to fall. 

You saw frustration and fear in her face, a silent shout stuck in her throat as she and V tumbled into a flat plummet. Faster, you needed more speed.  

You shot several tendrils out, following their path down in an attempt to grab them. You let out the huff of frost, meeting V’s jade gaze. His teeth were grit, eyes wide as he met your stare with a shocked one of his own. You doubted he would be able to process what was happening fast enough to really take it in, but that didn’t really matter in the moment. Saving him and Trish was all that filled your head, brain going into autopilot and power taking over. The seconds passed slower when a few tendrils managed to grab them, still falling and falling into the abyss.

You sucked in another breath, reaching your hands out to grab them even as you snarled in an inhuman tone, _“Open the Void’s maw...!”  
_

Your power burst out from your lungs, words filling the air like an invocation of their own. Icy cold, gripping your lungs and organs like clawed fingers as you expended a huge amount of Void power, an ability you hadn’t tried in a long time. The ability to step through the Void, letting it chose where to take you. Risky, difficult to pull off. But the only choice you had. _  
_

A crack snapped through the area, filling the surrounding space with the dull howl of the Void. You pulled Trish and V against you in the next instant, barely managing to grind out, “ _Hold your breath and don’t look...!_ ” before a fissure opened in the open air below you all, swallowing the three of you like the inky caress of a black ocean. 

Taking you into the Void.

You breathed in, staring out at the familiar, hollow darkness of your Deity’s home. Wind was blowing like icy fingers over your skin, the familiar sensation making your teeth grind after being away from it for this long. You wrapped your hand over V’s eyes, not wanting him to see the place so very few souls ever had to experience. The sight of it would never leave them. If they breathed in the air here, the chill would stay in their bodies for weeks, unable to be shaken by tea or hot showers. You had long grown used to it, but the few seconds suspended in air would be the only time you allowed Trish and the poet to be there. 

You could tell they both listened, holding their breath and eyes shut in the brie moments of transition. You regretted putting them both through the experience, but it was the only ace up your sleeve. Where would the Void put them out? You had no idea, you only hoped it was close to the tree. Anywhere at the base, away from the crumbling. You doubted it would screw up your “mission” so royally by depositing you further away.

But that didn’t matter now. Saving the two with you did.

You saw another fissure open in the Void, ready to move you to a different space away from the place you all had fallen.blessedly, finally. You were counting the seconds but they always felt...too long here. Warped, incorrect. You feared the other two wouldn't be able to hold their breath much longer. Griping them closer, you prepared to exit the Void the way you came. But not before you caught sight of _him._

_He was watching you._

The Deity stood in the distance, suspended upside down on a piece of floating debris. Your eyes widened, catching his black-eyed gaze as your body froze. You felt like you couldn’t breathe for a moment, like a child caught stealing candy from a store. His eyes were so sharp, his hands clasped behind his back and body so still it was unsettling. But his lips were curved in a bemused smile on his handsome face—was he handsome? You blinked, but the memory of his face never stayed. You couldn’t have even been sure he was smiling. But he had been watching you, that much you were certain of. 

Why wouldn’t he say anything? Why had he been so quiet for this mission? Seeing him was both a blessing and a curse, you cared not for his cryptic bullshit. Not now, not when everything was so crushingly hectic.

You wanted to say something, but never got the chance.

You spent ten seconds in the Void before it spat you all out, sending you tumbling out into the real world again onto hard ground. You yelped on impact, trying to cushion V and Trish with your tendrils as best as you could, but it was a hard landing for all. Trish rolled, groaning and gasping for air after holding her breath. V did the same, breathing heavily and laying on his side next to you. Fuck, that could have been bad. But you still weren’t out of the park yet. The transition from cold, hollow air to warm, reeking stench was jarring—you immediately gagged, landing on your hands and knees and momentarily registering that the ground was wet. Fleshy. Where the hell were you?

It didn’t matter in that moment. Making sure the other two were alright was the only important thing.

“V...!” You immediately gasped, pulling the poet up with your tendrils and holding him in your arms. He gave no resistance, his forehead cold and clammy when it rested on the side of your neck, “Are you alright? What about you, Trish?”  

You looked at the woman, relieved to see her sitting up on her own and rolling her shoulders. She looked a bit shaken, but not injured as she turned her eyes to look at you.

“I’ve been better,” She grunted, eyeing you warily before looking around, “What the hell just happened back there? How are we in the Qliphoth now?”

You blinked. The Void had deposited you inside the tree? You supposed that was a good thing, since it was the destination to begin with. But it didn’t shake your worry for V, smoothing some of his ebony hair back and sucking in a breath. The cracking had extended further, barely visible spider-webbing now on his face and those lips you adored so much. You hadn’t been gone that long—how had it increased this much? _You were running out of time_. And worse yet, you were willing to bet there would be plenty of demons in the tree. V wouldn’t hold out much longer, you couldn’t afford to waste time to rest.  

V opened his lips before you could speak, letting out a weak chuckle as he replied to Trish, “Isn’t she something incredible? She teleported us into the Qliphoth.”

Your heart thudded at his praise, tendrils wrapping around his body as you replied in a shaken tone, “Void Stepping. I would have done it a lot sooner had I thought I could manage it. I wanted to save my energy for healing you, but I've extended my reach enough to manage both."

Your energy flared again, but you could tell Void stepping had taken a big chunk. More than you could afford in that moment. But you would address that later. For now, you murmured the familiar words of _“From the Void, Into You_ ” and pressed as much energy into the poet as you could. 

He immediately flinched, a low groan leaving him as the familiar sensation traveled through his body. You pressed your lips to his head, not caring if Trish saw you as you tried to soothe him through it. She was definitely watching, even as she pulled herself to her feet. It clicked momentarily that she was now dressed, the outfit pretty revealing too. You weren’t sure how she found such clothes where you had left her, but that was the least of your worries in that moment.

The crumbling barely left him.

You knew when you had to stop pushing the energy, cutting it off with frantic panic growing inside of you. It bloomed like a poisonous flower, spreading its thorny vines around your heart and squeezing like a vise. Your energy had practically done nothing. He was still crumbling, even on his face. It was only lighter now, but flecks of matter were still drifting lightly from his form. Like falling snow. _Like ash._

You put a hand to your lips, trying to push back your panicked breathing as he finally opened his jade eyes again. His gaze met yours, his lips parted as he relaxed in your arms. Fuck, leaving him was the worst idea. There was relief in his expression, crushing relief and guilt as he stared at you. And... adoration.

It took your breath away. You pressed a kiss to his lips, that finally making Trish clear her throat, taking a few steps away to look around the area of the tree you were in. V let out a relieved sigh, his lips feeling dry and a little bit cold as he pressed to your warmth. Like you were water and he was dying of thirst. You mimicked his desperation, but you were at least kind enough to know not to get too invested with Trish there. And with so much at stake...you couldn’t afford to kiss him how you wanted.

“We’re running out of time,” You murmured, pulling away to help him to his feet. The kiss felt far too short after how worried you were, after how dire the situation had become. But V didn’t complain, only letting out a light grunt as you pulled him up, “We should get moving. I don’t know where in the tree we are, but at least we’re here.”

“I’d say we’re almost at the top,” Trish replied to your words, making you and V turn to look at her as she approached you both, “How did you manage to move us so far up?”

If you were already at the top...Urizen couldn’t be very far. Hope buzzed in your skull, making your heart pound so hard you were sure it would burst. There was a chance to stop him, to take back what he had stolen from V. The demon seemed big on taking things--stealing a part of V, ripping off Nero’s arm...so many deaths were on his hands and it needed to be stopped. If you could meet back up with Dante and Nero, a fight could begin and his life could be saved, right?

Not yet. You can’t afford to hope yet.

You instead focused on Trish. Her eyes were sharp, making you a bit nervous as you stammered in reply, “Er...I used my abilities to move us through a space between spaces...it popped us out in an area of its choosing, one that would benefit me most. This...is the area that benefits me most.”

If you had any confidence in your ability not to over exert, you would have done it sooner. You regretted not doing so, but Christ you never imagined you and V would be separated.

Trish put a hand on her hip, staring at you as V griped his cane, leaning on it as he summoned Shadow out again. The mighty cat looked thrilled to see you, letting out a pleased purring sound and rubbing your legs. It was a small comfort amidst the chaos.

The poet let out a low grunt, putting a hand on your shoulder as he told you in that low, honeyed voice, “We need to get moving. Are you close to exerting yet?” 

You knew he was going to ask that. 

You frowned flexing your fingers a bit as a few of your tendrils wrapped around them, “I’m good for now. I’ll eat while we walk. You should too.”

V shook his head at that, simply offering you a weak smile as he started forward. You lifted your hands, wanting to stop him when Trish put a hand on your shoulder. You blinked turning your gaze to her and feeling a bit...intimidated. She was much taller than you, wearing a revealing bust and black leather pants. A beautiful woman, and definitely not human judging by the aura she gave off. She seemed to be sizing you up, her gaze searching as it met your own stressed, worried expression. You weren’t sure how to read her yet, this new woman who was friends with Dante.  

“Leave him be for now,” The woman told you, pulling on your arm to tug you along. Walking and talking, then? You didn’t want to fall behind, so you kept in step with her, wishing you could run to catch up with the poet in question, “You and I haven’t been officially introduced. You know my name is Trish, yes. And I know you’re Y/N.”

You nodded hesitantly, not sure where she was going with the conversation.

She moved her lips closer to you, murmuring in a low tone, “And I can tell you’re not human. So, what are you? Some servant of a god?”

You sighed. Way too many people were wary of that here. But why lie now, when she clearly already partially knew the truth?

“I am,” You replied easily, seeing no point in hiding it as you stared ahead at V, “I’m a priestess. And I want nothing more than to get V to the top of the tree and help him to defeat Urizen. I swear I’m not up to no good, I just want to help the person I care about.”

The words came out almost pleading. Quiet. You saw V look back at you, a bit of worry in his gaze as it flickered between you and the scantily dressed female speaking to you. _What was with that look?_ Trish definitely didn’t miss it, meeting V’s gaze with a challenging one of her own. The two seemed to have a small staring contest, confusing you even further as V paused his steps. What the hell was their problem, and why were they having it now of all moments? 

Trish looked like she had something to say, but her eyes wouldn’t waver from V’s as she ground her teeth. The two didn’t seem to like each other, clearly having exchanged words before you met up with them. But you didn’t understand what they could have talked about to make this happen.

But Trish sighed, clicking her tongue and releasing you so she could quickly walk past V, her hair swaying back and forth as she did so. V let out a low, relieved breath, turning his face away from you and down to the ground.

_What the hell was that about?_

And even more alarming, you heard Trish mutter to V, low enough that she probably thought you wouldn’t hear as she slid past him.

“I’ll keep my mouth shut,” Her tone was displeased, angry as she flung the low murmurs at him like daggers, “But know that anything that happens from this point on is on you.”

What the hell did that mean?

You kept your face blank and confused, not wanting either to know you heard her. But you had, and you wished that wasn’t the case. V was still hiding something, something bad, and Trish knew about it. The knowledge was like a knife to your gut, making pain twist around until it felt like fire burning you from the inside. Foreboding filled you now, that sense of hope gone when you saw that guilty look in V’s eyes again. No...he couldn’t have been lying about his chance at getting better, could he? The very thought made your stomach do painful flips, toiling and rolling. You felt nausea building, threatening to make you retch. When was the last time you felt this stressed?  There was no way to tell.

You couldn’t take it. You couldn’t stomach the idea that he was hiding something like this again.

You wanted to confront V, wanted to force the truth. But...that look in his eyes stopped you. That pain, the guilt, the sadness...he looked like hell and then some. How could you make it worse for him? _What were you supposed to do?_ You wanted to cry, wanted to sit on the ground and bawl like a child. But that wasn’t an option. More than anything...you wanted to hug someone, wanted someone to promise you everything would be okay. But that wasn’t going to happen either, and the sensation wouldn’t leave you even as you walked forward, forcing your feet to move so you could catch up to V.

_He needs you more than you need the truth._

You faked a smile, taking one of his hands in yours and giving it a squeeze as you tugged him along. You saw surprise in his gaze before you looked away from him, forcing yourself to keep your eyes forward as you walked. No more wasting time, no more waiting. His hand was too cold for your liking, his skin feeling strange now that he was crumbling again. You were so in love with him, achingly so. The fact that there was still something terrible lurking, something threatening his well-being...it made you more anxious than you would care to admit. You wanted to share these fears with V, but god it would only make things worse for you both.

But V still seemed to tell.

“...” He was quiet for a moment while you both followed after Trish, him panting a bit at the incline. He was limping still, but he seemed to be walking alright with the cane. But his tone was breathy, low and concerned as he asked you, “Are...you alright, my sparrow?”

You sucked in a trembling breath, trying to hold back every ounce of emotion. For his sake, as well as your own. You wished he hadn’t asked that.

“I...” You mumbled, tone low and hesitant, “I...I’m just worried. I feel like...something bad is going to happen.”

It wasn’t a lie. But you couldn’t elaborate. You couldn’t tell him you knew there was more to his condition than he was letting on, more to everything. And that was ripping you apart.

V sucked in a sharp breath at your words, his hand squeezing yours as tightly as he was able. You welcomed the physical touch, welcomed him more than anything. You just hoped to the Void and back that you were strong enough to keep V safe, strong enough that whatever he was hiding wouldn’t matter. You had pulled off miracles before—you were willing to break yourself to do it, to save him from this fate. The Void was mysterious and powerful, able to shape reality and time to its will and change fate itself. You might have to give up a piece to access that brilliance, but...what else could you do, in the state you were in?

V leaned closer to you, his breath shaken as he pressed his lips to your hair. Nuzzling to you, getting as close as he could without truly embracing your form with his familiar arms. Your eyes closed at the contact, a whimper born and dying in your throat before it could be released. He was killing you softly, burning you up inside. Your eyes stunned with tears that so desperately wanted to come out, but you couldn’t let them. He was so weak, so desperately weak and breaking. You were willing to hold him together as long as needed, but what if it wasn’t enough?  What if you were never enough? The idea slayed you where you stood, making you want to throw up it was so terrifyingly terrible.

V’s words to you pushed the dagger in more, his voice so soft and deep. What he spoke to you was both a blessing and a curse, mingled together in a painful potion that made your throat clench with bottled up cries.

“I love you, sparrow,” He murmured, his lips brushing your forehead and breath brushing your skin. His voice was so raw, painfully so as he added, “And I will keep you safe.”

Your breath hitched, threatened to come out in a broken sob. Fuck. You were coming undone once more, heart breaking into a million lovely, sharp edges.

_All that you love, you eventually lose. Destined to taste the fruits of happiness but never have your fill._

It hurt, but you couldn’t show it.

_How cruel. How unfair. To finally have someone who loves you and they are dying._

You couldn’t break, not now. He needed you to be strong, right?

_A pitiful creature. You truly belong in the Void, don’t you child?_

The whispers of the Void were in your ear, so loud and rising in tempo. They wouldn’t stop. They couldn’t stop.

_Please stop. You wanted them to stop._

Your eyes teared up, threatening to spill over as you closed them. You leaned closer to him, your cheek resting on his arm as he released your hand, sliding it around so he could hold you closer. Christ, it hurt so beautifully much. It ached in your heart, your soul, every place it was supposed to until it filled you to the brim. Like a glass with water shimmering on the rim’s edge, threatening to spill like the tears on your face. It was too much, and it was not enough—it was more than enough to make you realize just how in deep you were, like you had plunged inside of his jade eyes while he was drowning right beside you. The only problem now was both of you couldn’t seem to find your way up. And that alone threatened to crush you.

God damn it. _God damn it._

How could he kill you with the very words you had so desperately wanted to hear?


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's keep this up! Fair warning in the coming chapters I am skipping the boss rush shit. Im too lazy to write it. Glad we understand each other.

_Chapter 21 _

You didn’t walk with V and Trish very long.

This part of the Qliphoth was strangely quiet, which made sense when you saw what was waiting for you. Upon leaving a tunnel you were met with the familiar sight, the bright neon lettering of the _“Devil May Cry”_ sign on Nico’s van. It was there, parked and tucked away in a safe spot of the tree. If such a thing existed. Regardless, it was a sight for sore eyes and you could have wept in joy at the idea of seeing the mechanic and Lady again. You needed their support more than anything. 

V seemed relieved as well, letting out a slow breath as his gaze settled on the mobile home. You just wanted some time for him to rest, running around like this was not good for him. You would expend more energy if you needed to, just to make up for the time lost.

You didn’t know exactly what the plan was, but you were half hoping to see Dante here. It would explain a few things at least and would mean most of the group was together again. Minus Nero--you weren't sure where the white-haired boy was. It worried you on top of _every other worry._ Last you heard of him, he was heading up the tree too, that chip on his shoulder as big as ever.

You anxiously hoped he was there at the very least, with Nico and the others. If everyone could gather and at least try to compromise for a hot minute, the obstacle that is Urizen seemed a lot less hard to get over. You were more than ready to be the support of the group, you had done it before on other missions. And where V and Nero were concerned, you could bounce well enough around their fighting style. As for Dante...you weren't so sure. 

All you could do was your best.

You sighed, walking up to the van with Trish close behind you and the poet. As you neared, your eyes caught on the sight of familiar sapphire feathers resting on top of the vehicle. You’d know that shape anywhere, the shape of the snarky familiar you were beginning to miss so much. _Thank god,_ at least someone you were worried about was waiting here safe and sound. It lifted some weight off your shoulders, turning to meet V’s gaze briefly before approaching. At the sound of your footsteps, the familiar face of Griffon popped out of the mass of feathers, staring at you and V in relief and leaping up to his feet.

“Thank fucking god...!” He squawked, swooping over to circle you and V and flap his mighty wings, “When all that rumbling started I was afraid you all would be dead...!”

V rolled his eyes, leaning on the side of the van with a small grunt, “If I was dead you wouldn’t be here, Griffon.”

“Still...!” Griffon landed on your shoulders, pressing his face to your cheek, “Glad to see you morons are in one piece. Well,” He eyed V’s flaking form, making the avian equivalent to a wince as he added, “Almost in one piece.”

“Griffon.” You and V sighed in unison, making the bird chuckle lightly.

You smiled despite his terse comment, the feeling of normalcy he provided heavily comforting in your state of anxiety. You missed having the group all together, so now it felt absolutely right. You pressed a hand to Griffon’s cheek, nuzzling his face to yours a bit and earning you a light, bird-like trill. He was safe, coming back from following Dante and that was another burden off of you. V smirked at your actions, or maybe it was at seeing Griffon practically turn to putty under your hands? Shadow was no better, leaning all her weight against your legs and letting out a low purr. Thank god for the companions, you needed them fairly badly in that moment.

You felt like you would need them more as the day went on. But V’s comment from earlier worried you, about them not being here if he was gone. It all but confirmed your suspicions—if he died, the companions would cease to be. And that filled the space of removed worries on your back.

At the sound of you talking, the door of Nico’s van swept open. The frazzled mechanic stood there, Lady right behind her as they poked their heads out to look at you. Christ, they were a sight for sore eyes. They mirrored each other’s relief, both seeming heavily pleased to see your group after being away from each other for a day. And you’d be lying if you said being near them wasn’t going to make you cry. 

You were so happy to see their beautiful faces after all the chaos. Normalcy and support, you needed both like a fucking lifeline, more so than you ever needed it before. Maybe being around a group like this had spoiled you, because other missions you just...dealt with things yourself. This was different.

“Y/N...!” Nico hopped out of the van to sling an arm around your shoulders, “Where the hell have you and mister poetry been?” She looked at the black-haired man in question, eyes widening when she took in his crumbling form, “And what the _fuck_ happened to his skin? Do you need some lotion or somethin’?!”

Her warmth and her personality were like a god damn beacon to you.  

You couldn’t help yourself. You wrapped your arms around her and hugged her curvaceous form, letting out a relieved sigh when she hugged you back. Lady seemed to sense right away something was up, because her body pressed to your other side and hugged you as well. By the Void, nothing was more soothing in that moment than being pressed between two pretty ladies you cared so much about. It took everything in you not to cry, face pressed to Nico’s shoulder and Lady’s chin resting on your head. You could feel V gazing at you, and had you been able to look at him you would have seen him staring at you with a mix of guilt, and sad relief. Like something about the women caring about you was pleasing to him.

“You alright there pumpkin?” Nico asked you, patting your hair with a free hand, “No offense, ya look like hell. We leave you for one day, you’re a train-wreck, and the goth is flaking like he should be in a dandruff commercial.”

You smiled weakly, tone tired as you replied, “Hell seems like a good description of today.”

Nico let out a hum of agreement, looking between you and V with a searching expression on her face. You forgot how much that had changed since you last saw her. Everything seemed so far away now despite it only being days. Christ, you and V had slept together only the night before. How was that possible? You desperately wanted to talk with Nico and Lady about what had transpired, but there would be no time. It felt like there was no time for anything now, for that matter. There was so much bottled up inside your body that you wished there was an extra day for you to sit with the girls like you did before.  

Alcohol optional, of course.

Trish walked up to your little group, putting a hand on Lady's shoulder and making the black-haired girl turn a bit. You almost forgot the two knew each other, both being friends of Dante’s before the whole mess. They shared a short, relieved look, Lady smiling at the blond and patting her shoulder in return. They both went through something terrible, but you imagined they were just happy to see each other come out of it alive.

“Guessing Urizen put you in a demon too,” Lady said to the woman, keeping an arm around your shoulders as she turned her body. You briefly noticed Lady was now wearing proper clothes, cute shorts and a blouse, “How are you feeling?”

Trish scoffed a bit, brushing past the woman to lean against the van, “As good as I can be.”

Lady let out a sound of agreement, sliding her gaze over to V and his crumbling skin. If you weren’t mistaken, there was a hint of concern in her eyes, which extended to you when your own stress seemed to register with her. You knew Lady had encouraged you to peruse a relationship with the poet, so it came as no surprise that this new development would be disheartening. 

You wished there was any part of your body that you could muster to soothe her, but you couldn’t even soothe yourself. It would be an understatement to say that you were a mess. You were a colossal train wreck, barely stitched together by determination and good intentions.

“What’s happening to you, V?” Trish asked, her arms wrapping around you again and her tone stern. Demanding an answer, no bullshit. You envied her ability to do that, to just ask for what she wanted to know with zero hesitation, “What’s wrong with your skin?”

He let out an incredibly dispirited sigh, all eyes on him now as he leaned his head against the van. You were willing to bet the question was growing old.

“Side effect of my _condition,_ " He replied, a purposely evasive response to her question and a tired smirk on his lips, “Let’s just say I’m not in peak shape.”

Trish opened her mouth at that, but V seemed done with the discussion. He stepped into the van, letting out a grunt of strain and leaning heavily on his cane. You stared after him in worry, wishing there was something you could do. Helplessness with an all too familiar companion now, sitting right next to anxiety and worry. Nico, Trish and Lady weren’t immune, that much you could tell. While your gaze was on V, theirs were on you, watching your expression crumble a bit into despair. 

Nico and Lady exchanged a long look, guessing right away that something had happened between you and the poet. Whereas Trish had witnessed the affection you shared.

And she knew. She knew what V was hiding. It upset you more than you cared to admit.

“Nero is in the van,” Nico commented lightly, still holding you against her chest and seeming determined not to release you, “He got his dumb ass beat by Urizen again. The glorified chicken dropped him off about an hour ago.”

So Nero was here? Thank the Void for that much at least.

Griffon puffed up at Nico’s off-hand insult, landing on the roof of the van and squawking indignantly at the mechanic, “Wow how original! Not like everyone calls me a chicken on a daily basis!”

“Zip it bird!” Nico snapped, pointing one oil-stained finger at his avian face as she continued, “I’m in no mood for your sass...!”

“If you can’t take it than don’t dish it out...!”

You cleared your throat to stop their argument, words partially muffled by Nico’s chest as you cut in, “Is Nero okay?”  

You were heavily concerned, especially considering how much Urizen had beaten the shit out of him last time. Dante must have come in for a swift rescue. One could only imagine what that did to Nero’s ego, already scraped by Dante telling him off a month ago. The boy had a chip on his shoulder and a desperate need to prove himself, so failing again had to be harsh. A sigh left your lips at the thought, eyes closing and leaning into Nico’s form. It seemed like everyone was having a terrible day.

“He’s fine,” Nico huffed, annoyance in her tone as she tilted her head. Looking into the van, it would seem, “He heals fast, but he’s going to be pissy as all shit when he wakes up.”

Not shocking.

“Where is Dante?” Trish asked before you could, taking a step up and looking into the van. Clearly not seeing him, based on the displeased look she wore.

Griffon answered her question, feathers puffed out still from Nico’s previous jibes, “He was fighting Urizen last I checked. He has a fancy new devil form and seemed to be doing fine all things considered. Can’t say the same for mister ‘dead weight’,” He grunted, stretching out his feathers and rolling his neck, “He certainly lives up to his name when you have to carry his sorry ass...!”

You let out a soft sigh, tone slightly scolding as you murmured, “Griffon.”

“Sorry toots, just spitting the truth.” Griffon gave you the bird equivalent of a shrug, chuckling a bit at your raised brow in his direction.

Regardless, you were glad Griffon had carried the boy to safety. You didn’t blame him for complaining, you had to lift Nero with your tendrils once or twice and he was very heavy. All muscle, plus he was carrying metal arms on his belt. Griffon had to have summoned strength straight from the depths of hell to lug the demon hunter from the top of the tree to here. And it showed, even he looked tired as he went into a roosting position on the van, sinking into his own feathers. Or maybe he was feeling weak because V was feeling weak? From what you could tell, they were heavily connected, so V falling apart could have negative effects on them too. Christ, you hoped that wasn’t the case.

You let out a sigh at the thought, pulling away from Nico so you could slide down against the van and sit on the floor. Not an ideal spot to put yourself, especially because the ground was particularly horrific in the tree, but you needed to rest. Much to your shock, all three women sat down with you. Nico on your right, Lady and Trish on your left. 

You blinked, feeling Nico’s arm snake around your shoulders again and Lady leaned her head on you, letting out a light sigh as silence stretched for a few moments. Fuck, you didn’t realize how much you needed this. Your eyes immediately wanted to tear up, closing as you took a few breathes to try and calm yourself. Even Trish, who barely knew you, was leaning forward to look at you with something akin to worry.

They were becoming your lifelines in the stress.

“You okay?” Nico asked, tone a bit more serious as she plopped her head against yours, “Somethin’ happened, didn’t it? And the poet’s condition is a lot worse than he’s lettin’ on.”

You smiled sadly, threading your fingers together and letting out a low murmur of, “You could say that.”

There was so much to tell them, so much they had missed. You didn’t even know where to begin. The thought of telling them you and the poet had made love made you want to blush, but it was so outweighed by the crushing reality of the situation that it made no difference.  

Trish let out another hum, tone purposely quiet as she asked, “Do you want to talk about it? Might help.”

You sighed lightly at that, pulling your legs up a bit so you could rest your chin on your knees, “I...I don’t know.”

Nico let out a little huff at that, her messy hair brushing against your face as she leaned closer.

“How ‘bout you give us a cliffnotes version for the road?” She suggested, purposely keeping her tone quiet, probably to make sure V didn’t hear.

Your eyes closed, mind bouncing between which things to tell them first. Wow, this was a slippery slope that you weren’t sure if you should go down it. You loved, trusted, and appreciated the girls despite knowing them for such a short time, but what was happening between you and V...it seemed to defy logical explanations. It seemed silly when you thought about it outside of all the context you knew, you had only known him for a few days after all. But you were so incredibly connected to him, which was outside of how you usually were. It seemed indescribable, but you knew what you felt was real. And you weren’t about to give it up for anything.

“Not sure where to start,” You mumbled, running a hand through your silken hair as you gave up and bit the bullet head on, “Do I start with the fact that I’m in love with him, that I slept with him, or that he’s dying?”

Boy, the shock that popped onto Nico and Lady’s faces was almost comical.

 _“You slept with him_?” Nico hissed, tugging you ever closer and locking you in her arms, “When the hell did ya find the time? And where?!”

You found it absolutely perplexing that you sleeping with him was what she focused on first, over the fact that he was dying. Seemed about right.

“I...it feels so far away, but it was just last night," You admitted, feeling a bit overwhelmed now that you were talking about it, “We...didn’t do anything outside, if that helps. We found a place to sleep and...well...”

You would cut out the fact that it was an abandoned church. They didn’t need that little tidbit in this timeline you were laying out.  

“Well shit,” Nico huffed, seeming absolutely awed over this knowledge you had given her. And strangely impressed, “How the hell was it?”

“If he didn’t treat you well...” Lady added to Nico’s words, trailing off in a threatening manner as she slid her gaze to the van entrance, where V was inside. Probably interacting with the statue from before.

You held up your hands, like you could somehow physically stop their anger and violence before it had the chance to fully form. You appreciated the concern, but V had definitely taken care of you. Not to mention the fact that he was in a terrible state the way it was. What could they possibly do to him that was worse than him crumbling apart before your eyes? The very thought doused your good feelings in ice, making you shiver a bit and hug your legs closer. You couldn’t focus on that now.

“It was wonderful,” You murmured, resting your chin on your knees and sighing, “Don’t worry. I just...wish he wasn’t in such a terrible state now. He’s...crumbling, falling apart and nothing I do seems to help. I hate feeling so helpless.”

The two women exchanged a glance, both seeming equally upset by this development. Your voice easily gave away just how heart-broken and stressed you were over everything, how terrible you felt about not being able to help him. And judging by their expressions, they didn’t know what to do either. You appreciated their concern, but there was only so much they could do for you. Even you, with all your otherworldly abilities, had your hands tied in that moment. There were so many strange circumstances with this you didn’t understand, but you wish you did.

What did Urizen take from him that was so important? A soul? But how would he have his familiars still? Nothing you could imagine made sense, this world followed its own set of rules and outcomes. It was made stranger still by the fact that your energy wasn’t helping. In theory, the Void energy was limitless. Able to produce miracles if need be. If the user was willing to lose themselves, to pay a price. You didn’t know how much of your own soul it would take. Would it be worth trying, if in the end you weren’t someone he could love anymore?

“Is there anything we can do?” Lady whispered softly, taking one of your hands and giving it a soft pat.  

You shook your head, slowly rising to your feet and letting out a low sigh. You turned your gaze to Trish, who watched most of the exchange in complete silence. She was a hard one to read, that was for sure—her face had remained impartial for the majority of things said.

“I know,” You said to her softly, letting out another soft sigh and making her look up at you, “I know he’s hiding something. And I know you know what it is.”

Trish blinked a little in surprise, narrowing her eyes on you and frowning at your statement.

You continued, “I don’t expect you to tell me...I’ll figure out a way to help him on my own.”

With that you walked past the group of ladies, into the van to check on V. You were worried about him not coming out yet, making sure he was okay despite not hearing a peep from within. You could tell all three women were watching you as you went, along with Griffon, who also knew damn well what was going on. But his beak seemed firmly shut now that V was back, something that only minorly annoyed you. You could understand he was bound by his master’s will, but where Trish was concerned...well, you could respect her making a promise too. The thought made you glum and irritable, but you were willing to grit your teeth and press forward.  

When you entered the van you immediately noticed V sitting on the leather couch, resting his head on the handle of his cane and taking slow, measured breathes. By the Void, he looked exhausted. He had probably sat down for a moment to rest and found he needed it more than he realized. Your heart squeezed in sympathy, walking over to him and gently sliding your hands into his hair. All the tension left his body at the sensation, a soft breath escaping his lips as he leaned into your touch.

His cane dropped to the floor as you stepped closer to him, letting him rest his head on your abdomen instead. This small moment of intimacy was so needed, V clinging to you like his life depended on it. And you, slowly stroking his ebony hair back and letting the seconds pass by. 

He was still upset about the things that had happened, that much you could tell.

You tilted your head, catching a glance of Nero sprawled out in the passenger seat of the van, reclined back and his coat slung over his face. You vaguely wondered why he wasn’t on the couch himself, but you got the feeling the answer didn’t matter. His position looked...uncomfortable, but you weren’t going to lug him around.

You pulled away from V, sitting next to him on the couch and instead pulling his head to your lap. He didn’t resist, lying down instantly with one leg bent, the other hanging off the couch as he made himself comfortable. A low grunt left him at the motion, but your soft thighs were perfect to lie on now, this position far easier on his aching body. At least that’s what you hoped. V didn’t seem to mind either way, closing his jade eyes and continuing his labored breathes.  

You smiled softly, looking down at him and murmuring, “Why don’t you get some sleep in, even for a little while? The others seem to be waiting on Nero and Dante.”

He let out a low grunt in response, seeming already half way there as he replied in a sleep-heavy tone, “As always, you are far wiser than I. You should rest too.”

You let out a light snort, dipping your fingers into his hair again as the seconds pressed forward. Time didn’t wait for you, even when you wanted it to. As he continued to breathe, you continued to think. Words hovered on your tongue, ready to jump if they could somehow find the courage. You didn’t want to think like this, afraid you’d never get the chance to tell him the things you kept so close to your chest. Your secrets, your deaths, your Deity. All bundled together in an icy Void, living inside you and clawing its way out. It ached terribly, the reminders of the past trying to pull in your memories of V...making him just another ache, another tragedy. 

He had to know. He had to know what you had kept so preciously hidden.

You felt your lips part, tone in a low whisper as you said, “I have been lying to you.”

V’s expression didn’t shift, nor did he move at your words. But his eyes opened, like he was expecting you to speak as he stared at your distraught face.

“And I you.” He murmured in reply, lifting a hand so his thumb could stroke your lips.

His simple answer, filled with zero judgement or anger...you partially wanted him to be mad at you, like you deserved.

“I’m the one who sold my soul, V,” Your voice was raw when the truth began to spill forth, like a dam cracking under the pressure of years and years of water, “No relatives, no descendants. It was me. I sold my soul after I died the first time and I...I...I’ve been this way ever since.”

V stared at you with steady jade eyes, brow only furrowing slightly as he cupped your cheek. You gazed down at his wonderful face, his soft lips and high cheekbones, your own eyes glistening with tears that wouldn't fall yet. He was so heartbreakingly beautiful; you couldn’t imagine a world where you couldn’t stare at his face. That same face now riddled with tiny fractures, crackling over his supple skin. Even in the state he was, he was a vision to you. Incredible, so very wonderful. How lucky for you to have even known him at all, to have him in your life for these few days?

“How did you die?” He whispered, those jade eyes not leaving yours for a moment. You felt like you were drowning in them, a sensation you welcomed eagerly despite how it overwhelmed you.

But his question was one that made your head twinge, you winced as you replied in a tiny voice, “I can’t...remember. I never remember the times I die, not usually. I just...know it’s been more than once. _He_...just keep bringing me back.”

 _He._ Your Deity, the god of the space between spaces.

_He is all and everything. Of songs sang to cradles and bones gnawed by teeth._

V’s jaw tightened a bit, his hand still resting on your cheek as he stroked your skin, almost rhythmically. The texture he had now was strange, his fingers feeling cold and dry. _Brittle._ You welcomed his touch anyway, wiling to warm him with your own body if you had to. You vaguely sensed the women outside peeking in at you, watching your interaction with the poet in silence. But you didn’t want to focus on them, not when the time you had with him was so precious. What could they possibly see anyway? They knew you had been intimate, knew what you felt for him. All they could see now was how he interacted with you, and make  their own assumptions in kind.

“Your Deity,” V murmured, tugging your hand to his and threading your fingers, “What is his name?”

You froze at that, the Void power inside you snapping to attention.

No one had asked you that before. At least not in recent memory—you couldn’t recall speaking his name in dozens of years. It felt so...taboo, forbidden. The sensation your Void abilities gave you said it was something you should refrain from, causing a dull ache to spring forth in your chest.

“I...” You whispered, closing your eyes and letting out a shaken breath, "I don't think I can tell you. I...I’m not allowed to speak his real name.”

_His name must not be spoken, he is not of the gospel or faiths._

Your Deity was not like other gods. You didn’t know the specifics, but you knew enough to keep your mouth shut. The look he gave you while you floated through the Void earlier hadn’t left you. Christ, it was unnerving, to not remember his face but know damn well he had given you an expression that left you feeling like you were in trouble. Only the Deity could leave you feeling chastised without saying a word. But you found it in yourself not to care, especially considering you would have to be dragged away from V kicking and screaming if necessary. God, you hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

V nodded in understanding, seeming to sense your discomfort as he breathed, “Forgive me for asking, sparrow.”

“It’s okay,” You shook your head, bringing his knuckles up so you could gently kiss them, “Please, try to get some sleep now, V.”

He sucked in a shaken breath his expression shifting to something a little more tormented as he gazed at your face. He leaned up slightly, pressing his lips to yours until they were filled with your warmth. You closed your eyes, letting the sensation linger before pulling away. Aching, hollow, desperate. He  said quite a few things with that kiss, the biggest of them all being...guilt. And fear.

“There is so much I want to tell you,” He whispered, his breath touching yours as he pressed his forehead against your own, "But I am a coward, love. A brittle, selfish man trying to cling to whatever he can in the time he has.”

You opened your eyes, feeling your heart ache at his words as you stroked your fingers through his silken hair. He still seemed reluctant to open himself fully to you, which was understandable. But the way he said that, like he was convinced he was going to die...

“Please rest,” You murmured, tugging his head down again so it rested in your lap, “Don’t worry. And never doubt what a wonderful person you are, V. You’re trying so hard to fix this, I know you are. And I'm going to get you through it in one piece."

V let out another breath at your declaration, his eyes fluttering shut and his head tilting away. You could see the muscles in his throat move, like he was swallowing whatever he was going to say in that moment. You couldn’t blame him, not with the state he was in. There were so many fears and doubts, the best you could do was steel yourself and prepare to hold his hand through it. There would be no death, no falling apart. Just you getting him to where he needs to be, defeating Urizen with the help of the others and hopefully fixing this problem. The tree would need to be destroyed, but that was just another hurdle you would cross when the time came.

A few minutes passed by in silence, you stroking V’s hair while his breath slowed and steadied. You could tell right away he was asleep, his expression shifting from that tormented expression of guilt to something a lot more peaceful. He was cute when he slept, lips parted slightly and those black lashes twitching against his cheeks. You hoped that if he dreamed, they were kind to his already-battered form. No nightmares, no nothing. 

His breaths were shaken still, struggling with his condition as it continued to get worse. You wished there was more you could do, but you wrapped your tendrils around his form, sending gentle, non-disturbing pulses of energy into him while he got some much-needed sleep.

Shadow padded in at some point, lying down by your feet and letting out a gusty huff of air. They seemed beat too, a little glum with how the mood was. You wished there was any comfort you could give, but...what could you do? Hands tied, desperately trying to keep their master afloat in this hell. Griffon flew in as well, landing on the back of the couch and curling himself around your head and neck. He didn’t say anything, but you could tell he was worried. Those strange, tri-pupil eyes looked at you only once before his gaze landed on the poet, sleeping as soundly as he could manage on your lap.

Minutes ticked by like that, all four of you resting up a bit and catching your breath. The day had been far too hectic, too long. You were expending energy in small does, but getting more back each moment you weren't moving, eyes closed and breathes slow. You needed this, you all did.

About a half our had passed with you dozing in and out, when the sound of Nero waking up reached your ears. You opened your eyes, seeing him sitting up in the reclined seat and look around with a bleary expression. 

His hair was messy, sticking up strangely and a red mark on his head from resting his arm on it. Poor kid looked like hell, but his wounds definitely seemed healed. Blood stained his white shirt, dried on parts of his skin—he looked like he had come back from war, he definitely needed a shower. You felt bad for him. The past few months had been less than kind to him considering he had lost an arm, had to learn how to use the metal ones, and got his ass kicked twice.

He turned his head, meeting your gaze as you gave him a sleepy smile, a small wave of your fingers. He blinked, raising a brow as he took in you sitting with V in your lap, his familiars resting around you. He seemed only partially surprised, rubbing a hand down his face and letting out a light grunt.

“How are you feeling?” You asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the poet resting on your thighs.

“Like I got my ass kicked,” Nero replied, sounding a bit sullen as he turned the passenger seat so he was facing you. He was leaning forward now, resting an elbow on his thigh and rubbing that hand over the back of his neck, “So the same as fucking usual, I guess.”

You gave him a sympathetic smile, extending a few tendrils to him as well to give him a little boost of energy. It wasn’t much, but it would help. He grunted at the sensation, lifting one of his hands to look at the tendrils wrapped around his fingers before you pulled them away.

“That’s as much as I can spare,” You murmured, focusing back on the unconscious poet, “The rest is for him. He’s...in bad shape.”

Nero’s eyes darted to V’s prone form, widening a bit when he took in the crumbling skin, his parlor, his shaky breathing. You could tell right away the devil hunter had no idea this was going to happen, the shock he wore pretty obvious. Nero could never hide his emotions, that was for sure.

“Jesus, what the hell happened to him?” He asked, a frown on his lips as he continued looking at the poet.

“A pre-existing condition,” You murmured in reply, voice low and sad as you stroked back V’s hair. The tender gesture wasn’t lost on Nero, you could see a bit more realization slip into his expression as you continued to speak, “He was going to start crumbling eventually...which is why he was so desperate to finish off Urizen quickly."

Nero went quiet at that, looking away and letting out a light sigh. You saw him scrub a hand down his face again, it seemed to be a nervous gesture. You were getting better at reading him, seeing pretty easily how stressed he was by the whole situation. And...disappointed in himself, for not being able to finish off Urizen himself. You knew it was eating at him, just by the way that muscle twitched in his jaw, his metal arm clenched in a tight fist as his thoughts rolled and toiled. You wished you could do more, he was your friend and he needed encouragement. But...what could you say?

“....” You paused for a moment, eyes on V’s face before you said to the white-haired demon hunter, “I know you’re upset. But I know you’re strong, and I know you can hold your own against Urizen when the time comes.”

Nero seemed surprised to hear you say that, turning his eyes back to meet yours.

“...I sure hope you’re right,” He muttered, resting his head on his hand as he added in a begrudging tone, “Dante had to swoop in and save my ass again. Figures.”

“Yeah and Dante had absorbed a fancy demon sword moments before,” You replied firmly, the image still fresh in your mind. Of Dante in his demonic form, heat and energy crackling off of him as he shot into the sky, “He was defeated by Urizen too, you know. We found him unconscious and dangling from a statue in a ditch. He looked like shit.”

Nero blinked at that knowledge, but said nothing. He looked hesitant still, a bit of vulnerability in his face. You were willing to bet that the two failures in a row were getting to him, making him doubt himself. You weren’t having that.

You continued on, “Nero, you’re still young. Dante has had years to discover new tricks, to unlock his power. You still have the time, you have the chance to find new strengths still. Don’t let it get you down—remain steadfast, because lord knows there is no one else I will trust more in this hell to help when the time comes. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders.”

Nero snorted at that, clasping his hands in his lap and huffing lightly, “I don’t know about that. After being called a jackass on a daily basis you start to believe it.”

That made you smile, your eyes traveling from him back to V’s sleeping face. You were glad your conversation with the demon hunter hadn’t disturbed him--he  was still fast asleep, probably getting about an hour in now on your lap. Shadow was snoozing too, and Griffon as well. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw all three of them getting actual, honest-to-god rest. 

It pleased you a bit in the chaos, making you smile in adoration at V as you stroked his ebony hair again. You could feel Nero watching your actions, a bit of a curious look in his eyes now that silence stretched between you. There was a hope in your heart that your words had at least helped him in some way, given him back some of his confidence. It wasn’t a lie, you trusted Nero and knew if it came down to it he would help if you asked. So would Trish and Nico, for that matter.

How lucky were you, to be surrounded by such kind people when you needed it most?

“...So...are you two an item now?” Nero finally broke the silence, making you look up at his greyish-blue eyes.

You two...he obviously meant you and V. The casual way he worded it, a bit awkwardly, made you smile.

“You could say that,” You replied, letting out a slow breath as your gaze flickered back to the poet, “I know it seems strange considering we haven’t been together that long, but...”

Nero shook his head, rising to his feet and grunting as he rolled his shoulders.

“Nah, it makes sense,” He replied, taking a step closer and leaning against the frame of the van. He was looking at V’s face, still in a state of rest and oblivious to you both talking about him, “V has always had this...air about him. Kinda lonely. You both seemed drawn to each other since the beginning, which is why I suggested you go with him.” 

So he had noticed from the beginning? Maybe Nero was more observant than you gave him credit for. You felt a bit guilty, he definitely hadn’t missed you V touching and teasing all the way to the Opera house. Poor kid, it must have been awkward as all hell. 

But despite your thought process, Nero was the one who looked like he felt terrible, doing a few of those nervous gestures again as he struggled to find his words.

He seemed a bit guilty, turning his gaze away as he added, “I feel like shit, though. I had no idea this was going to start happening to him...must be rough for you,” He scratched the back of his head, seeming to gather his thoughts a bit before he admitted, “Something terrible happened to Kyrie once too...it was rough on me, I blamed myself. So, yknow...I know what you’re feeling right now.”

His tone was gruff, like admitting such a thing made him a bit uncomfortable. He was trying to offer support in his own way. Hearing him talk about the woman he loved was certainly cute—he always took on such a soft tone wherever his fiancé was involved. He was most definitely in love himself, his eyes taking on a bit of a faraway look and his usual expressions more...gentle.

You didn’t know her, but you desperately wanted to meet the woman who could make Nero so starry-eyed. Everyone was talking her up, but you didn’t want to try and imagine her just yet. You just...hoped you got the chance to meet her at all.

“Thank you, Nero,” You murmured in reply, looking up at him with a pleading gaze, “I just...I know V is still hiding something. When the time comes, if things go wrong...please, promise me I can rely on you.”

Nero blinked, turning his gaze back to you and meeting your eyes. You doubted he had ever heard such a tone from you, begging and stressed. But he didn’t hesitate once, his tone firm and decided as he replied to you.

“That I can promise without a doubt. I’ll do what I can.”

You sighed in relief, closing your eyes a bit as you formulated a reply. But you were cut off by voices exclaiming loudly outside, and Trish sticking her head into the van to look at you all.

“Dante is back.” She said simply, pulling away with a passing glance at you and your poet.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My laptop is giving me shit and this chapter made me ache for death. I blame Dante and all those involved with his Dance scene

_Chapter 22 **  
**_

V stirred as soon as Dante’s name was mentioned, opening his tired orbs and sitting up in your lap.

He still looked awful, dark circles under his eyes and body stiff, wobbly as he pulled himself to his feet. You helped him as best you could with your tendrils, giving him one last pulse of energy as he took your hand and gave it a squeeze. 

His smile was so exhausted, but his eyes were soft for you.

Until...he turned, heading out of the van just as the devil hunter of the hour came sauntering back up. That driven look was back again, god damn it. Wherever Dante was concerned V seemed to have tunnel vision, which made absolutely no sense considering he didn’t seem to like or trust him. Why was V so convinced Dante could fix things? There was so much you were missing, but you had no clue how to ask for it. Dante’s words earlier kept coming back to your mind—before he stabbed himself with the sword.

_A demonic power was awakened in my once, when Vergil lovingly jammed this through my chest._

Who was _Vergil?_ And why was that name still bugging you? What you had seen at the mansion left a foul taste in your mouth, a sense of foreboding. You had long grown used to listening to what your body had to say. But this...wasn't Foresight. Something deep and dark, in your subconscious and refusing to shut up. 

Maybe it was just your brain trying to connect any dots that it could find, but this person definitely felt relevant. Why would Dante mention them, standing in the rain in that place you knew was relevant to V? Your head was spinning, scrambling to pick up the pieces laid out for you. It had never occurred to you, but there was no way V was his real name, was it? Shortened, a nickname, his chosen name. _V was...pretty close to Vergil._ Could he really be that person, who supposedly stabbed Dante with that sword?

But...why hide it? What the hell was going on?

You didn’t get the chance to dwell on it long, following V as he practically lurched out of the van. Sure enough, Dante was approaching, his gait as confident as ever. He didn’t have a scratch on him, but his hair and shirt were soaked with blood, drying fast. Everyone seemed to have gathered out there, waiting for him to speak when no one really seemed to know what to do.

All _you_ could seem to do was quiet your racing thoughts, helping V sit down on a piece of debris and plopping down next to him. Nico seemed awed by Dante’s presence, staring at him like a little kid looking at their favorite celebrity for the first time. You had no earthly idea what that was about, but you figured you would get your answer eventually.

“Well,” Commented Lady, walking up to Dante with a smile, “Look like no one’s worse for wear.”

You threw her a raised brow as she swept her gaze over the poet. Your expression stated your disbelief without you even opening your mouth. By no worse for wear, you hoped to god she didn’t mean V. Who was still crumbling and weak.

The short haired woman gave you an V an apologetic smile, patting your head as she slid by.

“Well...almost no one.” Lady mumbled, brushing past Dante and Trish as they walked up to you and the poet.  

Dante looked a bit annoyed behind that usual smile, tired if anything. You were surprised, the demon hunter didn’t seem the type to be easily worn out by anything. Though it seemed he had gone toe to toe with Urizen, only this time he walked away unscathed. That fancy demon form must have helped if that was the case. It made you a bit annoyed that Dante walked in and took care of everything on his own, not seeming to need Nero at all. The poor kid was watching, leaning against the van and rolling one shoulder as he sized up Dante.

In retrospect...if Dante looked annoyed, then maybe things didn’t work out with Urizen after all?

Dante’s words all but confirmed it, his tone accusatory as he addressed V, “Hey, where did that garbage God go? What is Urizen after?”

Urizen was no longer at the top of the tree? You felt everyone turn their eyes to your poor, crumbling lover. His head was down, hair shielding his face as he griped the handle of his cane tightly. On his left, you could see his tired expression, the faintest hint of exasperation in his eyes whenever Dante spoke. You couldn’t blame him—Dante seemed oblivious to his condition, either that or he didn’t really care. But...that didn’t feel right either.

“He’s at the top,” V replied, tone low and as smooth as he could manage, “Of the Qliphoth.”

Trish stepped closer, her tone a lot firmer and clearer as she took up the reigns of explaining instead of V. You were grateful for that.

“It’s the other way around, Dante,” She replied, her eyes steady and serious as Dante turned his attention on her instead, “This is the lowest level of the Qliphoth’s upper echelon. Human blood is the source of demons’ power—the fruit born through the Qliphoth is even more dense than the blood that created it. Its power is unparalleled.”

She crossed her arms, eyes shifting between V’s uncomfortable form and Dante’s standing figure, “Even the almighty Mundus used it to become king of the Underworld. V told me everything.”

Dante smirked lightly, wearing an expression that spoke of boredom and lack of caring. Like the explanation was of little consequence. Meanwhile you were blinking in surprise, hearing only once of the fruit but not knowing of how much weight it held—such a thing didn’t exist in the Void. You knew not of who Mundus was, but judging by her story he was of great significance. Quite a few of the things mentioned by her were never explained to you by V, which was admittedly a bit hurtful. Why would he go out of his way to tell these things to Trish, to tell her everything, when there was so much you didn’t know yourself?  

You looked at V in worry, but he wasn’t staring at you. Hell, you doubted he was staring at anything at all. His gaze held a faraway look, only increasing your concern.

“Yeah, well, that’s a lovely story and all, but...as long as we know where to find him.” Dante shrugged it off, strolling forward with intent to bounce again, no doubt.  

You saw V shake his head lightly in exasperation, letting out a sigh so quiet and exhausted. You brushed off your hurt, taking one of his hands and giving it a light squeeze of support. You didn’t know everything, but you knew Dante leaving again was a terrible idea. From what you could gather, the tree was growing in reverse—the top was where the roots were, gathering nourishment and blood and channeling it below, where the “top” of the tree would bear a fruit. Something holding the blood essence of so many innocent humans, granting the one who devoured it immeasurable power. That was all Urizen was after it would seem...power.  

But...why? He already seemed so strong, so unbelievably stacked he took on several of the world’s strongest demon hunters and won. Why was he determined to get this all-powerful fruit, if he was already considered a God?

You were about to open your mouth and tell Dante to stop and wait, wanting more explanations from him. From anyone, really. But Nico practically bounced into his path, looking as if she was waiting for the exact moment his attention wasn’t occupied.

“Whoa! You...are the infamous Dante...!” She exclaimed, voice sounding both nervous and excited as he met her gaze. Like a child meeting their lifelong hero. Nico cleared her throat, looking away a bit awkwardly and shuffling her feet, “Um...I’m Nicoletta Goldstein. Sound familiar?”

She laughed shakily, voice stammering and unsteady. Christ, you had never seen Nico anything but boisterous and confident, this was such a shocking change to you. She stuck a hand out, shaking Dante’s firmly and enthusiastically. You wished you could see Dante’s face, to see his reaction at the very least considering he hadn’t uttered a peep. You didn’t know what to make out of Nico’s excitement either, to be honest. But...it was cute in a way, seeing her so happy.

“My grandmother is Nell Goldstein,” Nico continued in her explanation, pulling her hand away and nervously pointing to the weapons strapped to Dante’s belt, “The Gunsmith that made all your fancy weapons that you got...strapped...back there.”

She seemed like she wanted to see said weapons, tone both awkward and hopeful as she peeked at Dante’s face.

He pulled them out, quietly humoring her as he griped two pistols in his hands. One black, one white—you could make out the barest glimpse of a women's’ portraits on the hilts before they were out of sight.

“Yeah, there she is!” Nico exclaimed, obviously pleased as she pointed at the pistol hilt. So it was her grandmother in the picture? You looked at V, like he would somehow have the answers. But he had closed his eyes, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the handle of his cane.

Fuck, he looked so tired. You were going to suggest he lie down a bit more, but he shuffled a bit closer to you. Your poet leaned to the side, resting his head on your shoulder and letting out a quiet grunt. Wow, cue several arrows piercing your already aching heart—V was slaying you when he did stuff like that. 

You smiled lightly, leaning your head against his and ignoring the curious stares from Lady, Trish, and Nero. You were surprised V was displaying affection so publicly as well, but in that moment, he didn’t seem to care. Griffon and Shadow had long grown used to the two of you touching, the bird sitting behind you both and preening his feathers. Shadow opted for plopping on your feet, eyeing the excited mechanic and the demon hunter talking to her.

Meanwhile, Dante let out a musing sound, looking down at the guns then back at Nico a few times. Examining her expectant, waiting face.

“You don’t much look like her...” He replied, tone a bit skeptical based on where his thoughts ended. You wanted to sigh—that was not the kindest answer to give to the clearly excited mechanic, but whatever.

Nico grunted, making a bit of a face while Dante returned his weapons to where they had been before.

“Yeah, I got my looks from my Daddy,” She replied, tone a bit sullen at the mention of her father, “That’s about all I got from him.”

Christ, did everyone here have family issues? You wanted to hug Nico so badly, to give her the love her father had clearly skimped out on. Hell, you were seconds away from whisking everyone in the room away somewhere safe, somewhere where they could be loved and not have to worry about terrible family, or lack of family for that matter. It occurred to you in that moment that you knew very little about Dante and his life outside of demon hunting. But you wouldn’t be surprised if he was as lonely and screwed up as the rest of you.

“B...but based on his research, I-I-I manages to cobble this—” Nico stammered, pulling something out from behind her back.

It... looked like a cowboy hat? You blinked, raising a brow and feeling a weird sensation as you examined it. White, with a black cord sewn with demonic spikes wrapped around the top. Did...it have eyes? Your Void ability didn’t know what to make of it, that was for sure.

“Um...it...it...” Nico mumbled, trying to gather her thoughts before she landed on, “Consider it a gift...! In honor of us finally meeting...!" She cleared her throat a bit as Dante took the hat, her tone a bit nervous as she added, “Meeting.”

Poor Nico, she looked so nervous. You knew without a doubt whatever that hat was, it had to be something incredible. She wouldn’t seem so anxious for Dante’s reaction otherwise. You hoped to god his reaction was good, or else you’d have to step in and slap him again. Nico was your friend and for her to cobble anything together for someone it had to be a big deal, a work of art. The daggers you gave her were still your prized possession, working wonders in battle.

Dante examined the hat for a few seconds, quiet and musing it before he flipped it onto his head. Whatever you were expecting his reaction to be, you weren't even close.

You blinked, seeing what looked to be a red scarf materialize from the hat now that it was worn, wrapped around Dante’s neck. The demon hunter began to dance in the next instant, making you feel like you were witnessing a fucking auditory hallucination. Were those lights and music? The how and why didn’t seem to matter given everything you had seen from the man before. Provided how Nero taunted, super over-exaggerated and extra, seeing such a display was not surprising when you put your head into it a bit. You recognized those dance moves too—he was definitely mimicking a particular singer with moves like that.

He was a good enough dancer, at least. Sliding his way across the Qliphoth floor like it was nothing. It didn’t make the scene any less bizarre, your expression fluctuating somewhere between shock, awe, and exhaustion watching him. You would admit, seeing such a goofy display in the middle of some of the more stressful moments of your life was a bit...relaxing. Albeit cringy, like watching your weird uncle dance at a Christmas party after everyone begged him not to. He was a strange man, that was for certain. Rocking his hips and making over the top noises on top of it all. You fought the urge to put a hand to your head, like you were somehow imagining the whole scene in your state of worry and anxiety.

But nope. It was still happening.

Trish and Lady seemed absolutely unfazed by his display, both stone-faced and bored as they waited for him to finish. This seemed to be in the norm for them, those who had known Dante a long time. That was both comforting and baffling.

Again, you couldn’t get a read on the demon hunter at all, no matter how much you tried. 

As for V...he showed only slight reaction to the outlandish display, his head on your shoulder and hand entwined with yours. You heard him inhale slowly, very slowly, before releasing a very quiet sound. One of exasperation, pain, akin to a groan but closer to a sigh. Your eyes darted to his expression, seeing something half way between exhaustion and... acceptance. He didn’t look shocked by Dante's actions either, more so mortified than anything else. And very tired.

You fully agreed with the sentiment.

Dante finished his display with a flourish, like it was a big performance and the Qliphoth was his stage. Nico was the only one who seemed jazzed, cheering and clapping like it was the best thing she had seen. Well, she most certainly got the validation she sought, in the form of Dante at his most dorkish. You could be happy for her on that end of the spectrum at least. At the other...well. You wished she wouldn’t encourage such a display again; it was just far too much to handle at that moment.

“I’ll take that.” Dante said to her with a smirk, taking off the hat and the scarf disappearing like it had never been there. He tucked it into his coat, but you had no clue where the fuck it went after that. Did he strap it to his belt?

He turned, starting to walk away again before he was stopped--by Nero this time. The boy walked past you, coat on once more and looking a little less worse for wear as he approached the older demon hunter.

“Dante,” He said, tone firm and brow furrowed, making the man in question half turn his head in response, “I’m gonna go too.”

Judging by that look on Dante’s face, this wasn’t going to go well. You exchanged a look with V, you giving him a meaningful stare before you pulled away and rose to your feet. Nero had that look again, his “I’ve got something to prove and I’m mad about it” stare. Dante was just as not, if more stubborn, and you knew neither would compromise.

Further confirmed when Dante replied, "Why don't you sit this one out?"

“Oh, and let you call me ‘dead weight’ again?” Nero glared, annoyance practically dripping from his tone, “No thanks.”

Ahhh, it was finally confirmed. As you suspected, the older man was in fact the one who called Nero that. No wonder he was so bent out of shape about it.

“I’ve got all the power I need,” Nero insisted, his words insistent like he was trying to convince the devil hunter as he lifted his bright, shiny new metal arm. You could see it in his eyes, that need to prove himself. A need for acceptance, and it made you ache on his behalf, “Right here...!”

Dante let out a light sigh, face taking on a more serious feeling as he met Nero’s sharp gaze, “You don’t understand. It’s not what I mean—”

He paused, mouth open almost like he was going to explain, but he firmly shut it again. You saw hesitation flicker through his expression, almost missed. But your eyes were ever searching. He was definitely hiding something too, like he was trying to protect Nero. You couldn’t imagine what, but he seemed determined not to let Nero anywhere near Urizen. Not to fight him, not for anything. Was it because the demon had ripped off his arm? But that didn’t make sense.

Nero scowled in annoyance at Dante’s tone, shoulders tensing as indignation took its place in his features. He looked like he was squaring up to argue more, but the sound of V’s familiar, smooth voice behind you cut him off.

“Let him go, Dante,” He said firmly, making you and the two men turn to look at him. He pulled himself to his feet with the help of his cane, turning to level his jade eyes on the arguing demon hunters, “Time is a luxury that we can no longer afford.”

It was a reminder—he was running out of time. They all were. It was a race now, to get down the tree before the fruit ripened, allowing Urizen to devour it.  

“We must chase after him, post-haste.” V continued, walking slowly toward them with you shadowing his steps. Ready to help him if needed, to wrap your tendrils around his crumbling body.

Dante looked a tad displeased, regarding the frail man with an expression close to exasperation as he sighed, “What, does that mean you’re going too?” The idea seemed less than stellar to him, which you could understand. Hell, if there was any way to fix this that didn’t involve Urizen and the tree you’d be dragging V out of it already. His mission be damned. Yours too.

V was slightly hunched over, staring at Dante from under a curtain of his ebony hair. He was quite the sight, lips and face lined with cracks and dark circles under his eyes. But that driven look was there, further punctuated by his words.

“I have a duty to see this through.” He said, tone implying he would not be swayed in the slightest. You stepped up beside him, meeting Dante’s gaze with a firm one of your own. You didn’t have to add that where V went you followed, his needs were your own.

Dante made a face, one that hinted at aggravation before it slipped into one more akin to his personality. He made a “Huh” expression, shrugging his shoulders a bit like he was brushing the whole matter off. Of little consequence, it would seem. There was a bit of respect there too, like V’s words had struck a cord with Dante, one he could appreciate. To be honest, you were grasping at straws, trying to keep up with Dante’s strange way of approaching things. It wasn’t going well.

“Well, that’s all you had to say, Mr. Poetry,” He replied, turning again and gesturing with a flick of his fingers at the men next to you, “I’m gonna go my way, and you guys can go yours. Let’s just say that’s the best for the cause.”

He gave a little finger salute, ready to jump down into the crevasse below.

 _Are you fucking serious_? Annoyance and exasperation burst inside you, like a dam cracking and waiting to fall apart.

You practically bristled at his words, that stupid mindset he had, finally speaking up in an annoyed tone, “Are you kidding me? Splitting up again?”

You were getting tired of it. Of not knowing anything, of people hiding things, of all the bullshit. You were irritable now, dealing with the prospect of Dante going off on his own again.

All the men paused, staring at you with surprise as you continued, eyes staring hard at Dante’s face, “This isn’t a race or a game. And this stubborn, macho bullshit is going to get someone killed—if you all don’t pull your heads out of your asses and learn to work together nothing will be done.”

Dante smiled, much to your shock. It didn’t make you feel better, and it certainly wasn’t welcome when you were so annoyed at him.

“Your Priestess has some fire in her there, V,” Dante observed, tone low and bemused, “Some of us might get burned.”

You scowled, especially not liking his constant use of the term “priestess” for you. Like you were some quiet, temple worshiping maiden for a half-baked god. You were formulating a comeback, but V didn’t seem pleased by his words either.

“There is truth in her fire,” He replied, narrowing his eyes on the devil hunter and his tone a low purr, “I am not her keeper. She is free to speak how she chooses, especially when she’s made a fair point.”

Dante sighed at that, scratching the back of his head, “So you agree with her?” He leveled his gaze on you, smile slipping away as he addressed you fully now, “There are things at play here you don’t get, kid. You’re just gonna have to trust me—focus on doing what you gotta do, and I’ll do what I have to do.”

Trish, Lady, and Nico hovered nearby, seeming unsure of what to say. You knew they trusted Dante’s judgement, but...You couldn't. Not yet.

You crossed your arms, frowning as you replied in a skeptical tone, “You make me cry then expect me to trust you?”

Well, that certainly got the girl’s attention.  

They both flanked you in an instant, Lady cradling your head to her chest and forcing V to step away a bit in surprise. Nico on your right, taking up the task on hugging you from the other side. You blinked, unsure of what the hell was going on until Lady spoke.

“Are you for real, Dante?” Lady narrowed her eyes, looking incredibly threatening as she stared down the now surprised devil hunter, “You made her cry?!”

Uh-oh. They had gone into protective mode.

“Uh...” Dante mumbled, voice more hesitant than you had ever heard it. Honestly, he couldn’t lie.  

“Isn’t she going through enough?” Nico piped up in her southern drawl, brow furrowed in disappointment and a hint of hard, flat disgust. You were touched—Nico's love for you trumped her idolization of Dante, which was very sweet. Validating.

Dante held up his hands, jaw going slack in awe now he faced the wrath of two protective women. So that’s where Dante’s area of expertise ended? He looked like a deer caught in some headlights, unable to formulate any sort of reply to defend himself as Lady continued to chastise him. V and Nero took a couple careful steps back, not wanting to put themselves between the girls and the other male at the moment. Nero looked a bit smug, all things considered. Like seeing Dante get yelled at please him. V, too, seemed amused by it all, even through his pain and suffering.  

Trish leaned against the van, letting out a low chuckle when Dante tossed her a pleading stare.

“Don’t look at me like that,” She huffed, examining her nails as she turned away, “You’re on your own there. Shouldn’t walk around making girls cry, Dante.”  

You almost laughed, almost.

“You’re lucky there’s a demon to kill,” Lady pointed a finger in Dante’s face, making him take a step back and blink, “Otherwise I’d kick your ass. Did he apologize, Y/N?”

Her way of speaking implied that, based on your answer, she might wring an apology out of Dante physically.

But you didn’t want to waste any more time, replying in a voice muffled by her chest, "He did. I think.” He did in his own way, but it still didn’t make the fact that he picked apart your vulnerabilities to gauge your intentions any less okay.

“Can we please get back to the task at hand?” Dante sighed heavily, looking thoroughly uncomfortable as he turned away, quickly hopping down into the pit below. Back to business, it would seem. If he was going, you and the others needed to head out too. Sadly. You wished there was a way to bring Lady, Trish, and Nico down with you, but...you imagined Nico would find her way down somehow.  

Lady let out a sound of annoyance, releasing you with a loud, exaggerated kiss to the forehead.

“Next time he’s a jackass, you let me know,” She said firmly, holding your head in her hands, “He has a habit of speaking without using his dumb man brain.”

Nico let out a snort, eyeing Nero with an expression of mirth as she added, “Boy, ain’t that the trend around here?”

Nero rolled his eyes, shaking his head and leaping down into the pit himself before an argument could start. Nico cupped her hands over her mouth, yelling down after him, “Don’t do anythin’ stupid, psycho...! You’d better come back in one piece...!”

Was that a groan, fading fast as Nero fell down to the area below? A laugh threatened to bubble up at the absurdity of it all. It was very obvious that was Nico’s way of saying she cared, telling Nero to come back safely. You smiled at the girls, pulling them all in for a quick, last hug before setting out. You would carry this feeling, this warmth, the support—you would hold it close to you as you traveled to where the fruit would emerge, like a lifeline through the stress. You could feel V watching you, but you didn’t dare look at his expression, afraid to see that guilt again.

“Thanks guys,” You murmured, squeezing them a bit before pulling back, “Wish me luck. I know we will see you at some point along the way.”

Nico nodded, patting you on the back as she replied, “Sure will. I gotta show you the fancy shit I’ve been cookin’ up with your crystal at some point, right?”  

You smiled and nodded, taking a step back and threading your fingers with V’s.

Lady looked between you both, worried as she said sternly, “Be safe, you too. Call if you can find a phone.”

“Same to you.” You replied, smiling softly as you looked between them. You had grown to care about both of the women so much, they were kinder to you than you could ever hope and full of so much loving energy. There was a pang in your heart, hoping to god once the mission was done that you’d be able to see more of them.

You gaze locked with Trish for a moment, the woman staring at you with something akin to regret, maybe even guilt. Or...maybe it was foreboding? There was a knowing glint in her eyes, arms still crossed and blond hair tucked over one shoulder. She gave you a hard, meaningful stare in return, one of warning, before she turned and headed into the van. She never spoke, but that look said a lot—it told you to stay on your toes, stay wary. That whatever V was hiding was more than he would let on, bigger than he let on. Something Trish wanted to tell you, but couldn’t.

_You needed to be prepared for whatever happens._

You squeezed V’s hand, turning your gaze away to look at him for a brief moment. He still looked tired, but filled with that determination from the first moment you met him. It was both his blessing and his curse, that desire to press forward and fix what he decided were his mistakes. Frustrating, but respectable.

You didn’t want to fear what was to come, not yet, but you would be ready. So, you summoned your tendrils and jumped, you and the poet plunging into the glowing red abyss below. You hear Lady and Nico call their goodbyes down to you, echoing and fading as you fell. You knew splitting up was a bad idea, not on your top ten list of things that ever worked out in any capacity, but...well, you would do your best.

You made sure to cast Feather Fall on you and the poet to make for a safe, easy landing at the very least.

V was a bit quiet when the ground finally rose up to meet you, your tendrils stabilizing his form and your own. Griffon swooped by, circling around and landing on your shoulders as always while Shadow kept close to V. You felt anxious and full of foreboding, watching the poet roll his shoulders and start walking forward with the help of his cane. You didn't want to hesitate, not sure of what to say despite how much the need to talk was clawing at your throat. There was so much to ask. Too much. About Dante, about V, about Urizen...everything. But now wasn’t the time, not when things were so close to being fixed.

Vergil’s name and mysterious tie to everything that was going on would not leave you. But...your mouth refused to open, like it was trapped shut.

Instead you walked in time with V, Foresight creeping up to alert you of enemies ahead. Because of course, there would have to be fighting now that everyone had gone their own way. The thought made you glum, sullen. Even Nero, who you were hoping would come your way seemed determined to move along by himself. Maybe it was something Dante said, convincing him that this was something he needed to do alone? Either way, you weren’t pleased.

There was something else too, a pain in your neck that wouldn’t go away. Right on the nape, a stubborn sensation of your muscles being pressed on. It made you frown, constantly rubbing that spot but it soothed nothing. It felt akin to someone holding their hand on the back of your neck, squeezing to the point of just slight pain. You rarely pulled a muscle, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t do so. It was of little consequence, but it was a nagging sensation that left you just a tad bit sullener. It got to the point that you kept jostling Griffon doing it, so he settled to the other side of your shoulder to give you space. The off-setting weight only hindered you a little bit.

“Expect fighting ahead,” You told V, giving his arm a light squeeze and trying to keep your expression calm. Steady. You needed to be steady, “Are you up for it? I can go ahead and clear the path for us.”

You were more than willing to take on some lower level demons by yourself.

V turned his gaze to you, jade orbs flickering with several emotions as he seemed to look over your expression. You resisted the urge to look away, feeling a tad bit guilty about being so unhappy. It certainly wasn’t fair to V. especially when he was dying.

“No,” He told you, slipping his fingers into your hair lightly to stroke it back. You closed your eyes at the contact, relief pouring through you at even a little affection, “You must be close to exerting after all you have done today.”

You opened your mouth to disagree when it clicked with your brain. He was wrong, and that in itself.. _.was wrong._

_You felt completely fine._

You were nowhere close to exerting, power still swirling comfortably and muscles feeling fairly normal. Too normal, incorrect for how much power you had mustered for recent events. In between healing V, summoning food, teleporting them all...you should have been running on empty, but the sensation was nowhere to be found. You blinked, mouth half open as you stared at V's confused gaze. You could only imagine what was going through his mind at your silence, your shifting expressions. You echoed that confusion, and flung it right back at him. Hell, you had no earthly idea why you weren't a heaping puddle of pain on the floor at that moment, there was no way you had extended your reach that far yet.

“I...” You whispered, eyes staring forward as your scrambled brain tried to do some quick math, “I’m...not? Why am I not...?”

V lifted his cane, slipping it under your chin to tilt your head toward him again. He looked concern, eyes meeting yours seriously as he cupped your cheek.

“Sparrow?" He questioned, the concern mimicked by Griffon as the bird stuck his face by yours.

“You okay there, toots?” He said, tone a bit worried and feathers shaking out when your silence persisted a few more moments, “You tryin’ to convince us that you’re not worn out after all that flashy shit? I don’t buy it.”

“No,” You whispered in reply, lifting your hands to stare at them and tone incredibly lost, “By all accounts, you’re right. I should be well past my limit. But...I’m _not._ I’m not anywhere close, and that makes no sense.”

_Nothing makes sense._

Griffon and V exchanged a look, V taking one of the hands you were gazing at in his own and squeezing gently. It grounded you in reality a bit, brain drifting in and out of focus as you tried to piece things together. Senses on alert, straining for whatever you thought could be the cause of everything. It occurred to you that there was a faint sound in the air, one you didn’t tune into before being so god damn distracted by everything. A faint humming, almost like a whispering. 

Close to what you heard in the Void, but muted like it was under water. It seemed so obviously present now, loud compared to when you weren’t focusing on it.  

That was a sound you knew very well.

You released V’s hands, shock in your expression and heart hammering as you started feeling around on yourself, searching for the source. Griffon squawked in alarm, hovering of your shoulder while you frantically searched until your fingers caught onto something hanging off the back of your belt. You froze, breath caught in your throat as your fingers threaded around the familiar shape, pulling it forward so you could stare at it. Even knowing what it was, still seeing it made your mind blank out, fuzzy as you tried to comprehend exactly where it had come from.

_It was a Rune._

It fit into your hand, the shape all too familiar and etched with the mark of your Deity. Made of whale bone and metal, an artifact crafted by worshipers from the world closest to the Void, the most in tune with it. They now served his purpose, ingrained with the power he held and used as a tool to grant abilities and strengths to his followers. You had used them before, on rare occasions, but...you yourself were granted with the Void’s power. Those who used runes were generally those who were still human, but granted his abilities via blessing. 

You...weren’t the same. You were molded by the Void, inhaling it in your lungs until it shaped you into a being beyond human. Closer to the Deity in that regard, a priestess instead of a follower.

But it was here now, in your hand. Where had it come from? You didn’t pick it up, but it had been looped to your belt by a leather cord. Your eyes were dazed as you looked at it, the weight of it in your hand instilling a confused sense of urgency. Was that the reason why you hadn’t exerted yet? The rune was boosting your abilities, the echoing traces of your Deity granting you an extra blessing.

But...that would mean _he_ had been here. He had attached it to you, given you a gift instead of making you find it at a shrine. The problem was that it didn’t feel like a gift at all, especially not in the way it was presented to you. No conversation, no guidance, just silence and the cold press of the rune’s shape into your palm. Your heart was pounding so fast, fingers beginning to tremble as that sense of foreboding returned, and the guilt. Your Deity...he wouldn’t have given this to you unless he wanted to help, right? This was meant to aid you, but it still felt wrong. You shouldn’t feel this way after being given a gift by your master, but your gut was clenching and the power of the Void swirling ominously.

It didn’t make any sense. Was your Deity upset with you or not?

“What the fuck is _that?_ ” Griffon’s loud squawk snapped you out of your racing thoughts, making you flinch and fingers clench around the rune so hard your knuckles were white.

V immediately clasped his hands over yours, hesitantly so as they grazed over the surface of the rune. You blinked, breath catching as you looked up and saw a mixture of confusion and wariness in his gaze.

“Its...” You whispered, eyes flickering down to the object in your hand as you swallowed softly, “It’s a rune...an object cobbled in the name of my Deity that grants bonus abilities to its user.”

V touched his crumbling fingers to it, brow furrowing at whatever he felt. You had long grown used to the ominous sensation runes brought, but V...you could tell he was unsettled.

 _Someone crafted this rune with the blood of innocents and putrid whale oil._  

Your mouth opened, babbling a bit to try and cope with the worry creeping up your spine as you continued, “I’ve heard stories of children who used to put these under their pillows for good luck, but always had nightmares instead. They’re...fused with Void essence and generally serve those who have either been blessed by my Deity, or those who seek to be blessed by him. Conjuring tools, worshiping crafts, cursed items made by cursed hands to...to....”

“Y/N,” V murmured, capturing your face in his hand to tilt it up. He could sense your growing sense of unease, the lack of control inside of you, “Where did you acquire it?”

Your heart was pounding in your ears, eyes closing a bit as you took a few measured breaths.

“I didn’t,” You practically whimpered in reply, fingers squeezing the rune tightly again, “He had to have placed it upon me, at some point. How did I...how did I not notice? He never does things like this, never in this way. It doesn’t make sense.”

When did he give it to you? How long were you walking around with it strapped to your belt?

V didn’t miss the distress in your tone, tucking some hair behind your hair as he murmured in a honeyed tone, “Breathe, dearest. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation. We are in the final stretch of our journey...maybe your Deity sought to aid you in some way?”

You wanted it to be that easy, wished for it to be that easy. But you knew better, knew how he functioned. So many missions doing the same thing, the same cycle, only to change it now? It wasn’t in his nature to suddenly lose consistency. 

But...you were wasting V’s time here worrying about it, each moment precious and needed to reach the goal you sought. You had to swallow this feeling too, and accept things for what they appeared to be. This item was helping you, extending your powers to something far higher than you were supposed to be at when you needed it so desperately. It was a gift, you told yourself. A blessing. You wouldn’t accept anything less.

You couldn’t afford to keep thinking about it.

“Maybe.” You mumbled in response, but your tone conveyed no hint of conviction. You slipped the rune back onto your belt, trying to ignore the low sound it made as you turned away from V.  

You were just happy they couldn’t hear it.

V still seemed worried about you, reaching out for your hand and grasping it as firmly as he was able. As for Griffon and Shadow...both were following behind, the bird quiet and just as worried as the poet. It was understandable, at the very least.  

You closed your eyes, counting your breaths and leading V and the familiars forward to the next area. With this rune, you were the strongest person in the group at the moment. You had a poet to protect, and a goal to reach. You just wished that the sense of dread would cease, that your heart would slow and everything was guaranteed to work out.  

But more than anything, you wished that aching sensation on the nape of your neck would just fucking go away.


	23. Chapter 23

_Chapter 23_

The following hour of the day ensued exactly how you imagined it to. Well...almost.

The Qliphoth tree was filled to the brim with fighting, so the descent down was less than satisfactory. It worried you, with how weak V was. Each fight felt a lot more high stakes, you on high alert to try and make sure he made it through each one safely. The brunt of battle was on you, which suited you just fine all things considered. You had the daggers as your main tools, and the Void power focused mainly on boosting V and backing him up. 

You had no idea how long the rune would last in your favor, it didn’t have any rhyme or reason when it came to you being a priestess. But unlike before, there would be no backlash if it ran out--you would simply feel your power start to drain once more, leaving you a bit weakened and closer to exertion. Still, that wasn’t a risk you were willing to take at the moment.

_No risk was a risk worth taking, not with things so dire._

Conversation was kept to a minimum as well, V trying to focus on each attack and guiding his familiars through the fighting. Even Griffon, usually chatty and loud, kept his quips and jibes to a minimum. Could he sense that feeling in the air? The foreboding, the worry, the anxiety. You were having a hard time mustering the will to banter with him, as much as you loved it. 

There was too much uncertainty around your Deity, the rune, and V himself. With each decent downward you felt the sensations grow just a bit more. That blooming, poisonous flower of foreboding growing and extending its thorns with each passing second. There was that part of you that wanted to confide in V, but there just wasn’t any time.

You were in a cycle now. Kill demons, open a hole in the floor, drop down. Feather Fall was your best friend in these trying times, but Griffon was still there to settle V on his way down as well. You were pairing well with the bird, getting used to his way and Shadow’s way of fighting and bouncing off each other. Even Nightmare, who you were shocked V could still summon in his state, seemed to be getting used to your way of battle and working his way around it. You used his large form as a jumping off point more than once, and he was a bit more careful with that exploding energy laser than before.

Seeing V with his white hair made you think even more, especially considering that the other two demon hunters had it as well. And that painting in the mansion...the two boys in the photo had white hair as well. You knew V was connected to it all, but you knew no matter what you asked he wouldn’t tell you. It ached, just the thought of it. But you kept your chin up, playing the role of support and main fighter in one. The slice of blades, demons burning with blue fire and the hollow ache of the Void...without that rune you would be running ragged.

Speaking of the two devil hunters, after destroying another Qliphoth bundle and falling into another new area, you were suddenly face to face with Nero himself.

You blinked, narrowly dodging the demon he was fighting while Griffon carried V to safety. Nero looked equally surprised to see you too, stopping his attack and yanking you to the side to avoid the swinging claws of another creature. You appreciate his effort.

“Son of a bitch, be more careful!” Nero barked, scowling as he leveled his gaze on you and the poet, “I could have hit you with punch line on accident!”

The arm he was wearing was certainly one of his stronger ones, glistening with demonic blood and sparking a bit. He had been putting it through the wringer, so it would seem.

You smiled apologetically, summoning your tendrils as you replied, “I’ll be more careful. How about some back up?”

You knew his fighting style, knew how to work side by side with him and the poet. He was looking a bit ragged as well, so you made note to give him some extra energy as well. After all, that was your main focus for V in between fighting. The thought made you glum, especially considering the energy could only do so much to help the poet now.

Nero opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by the all-too familiar sound of Dante’s voice yelling, “Head’s up!”

You felt Nero tug you both down in an instant, V included as the body of a demon flew right over you. Griffon squawked in alarm, narrowly dodging being smacked with its disintegrating corpse. Well, that was a bit too close for comfort--you felt like the demon’s spikes had grazed your hair a bit.

Blinking slowly, so looked up, both surprised and not to see Dante strolling up to your group. Well now...everyone went different ways, but still ended up in the same place. So much for Dante’s plan of not working together, your little rag-tag group was now forced into compromising at that moment. You would be lying if you didn’t feel a bit smug, but it was a bit weighed down under the layers of everything else you felt.

You stood up, eyeing the approaching demons around you while Dante stood nearby you all, that sword slung over his shoulder.

“Glad to see everyone is in one piece,” You commented, summoning your tendrils as you put yourself back to back with V. You thought you heard him let out a low, amused hum, his fingers brushing yours as you reached a hand back, “How about you gentleman lead, while I provide as much support as I can?”

Dante shrugged, that little smirk playing on the edges of his lips as he gave the sword a little twirl. It occurred to you briefly that it looked similar to the former Devil Sword Sparda, but now...bigger. More elaborate.

“If you want,” He replied to you, quirking a brow in your direction as he added, “Try to stay out of the radius of my attacks, if you can manage.”

That made you roll your eyes, “No pressure, right?”

Dante chuckled, whipping around to slice off the head of a nearby demon in a single slice. You exchanged a brief, tired look with Nero before everyone leapt into battle themselves.

Things were a lot faster paced with the boys involved. A lot...bloodier. Seeing Dante fight in person further solidified your thoughts on when you attacked him before. He definitely didn’t retaliate on purpose, and he would have wrecked your entire body. He was a being of strength, taking out demons like it was nothing. Mind you, this was just glimpses considering most of your focus was on protecting V while he read his poetry.

Dante would get close at points to aid, and that’s when you would get to witness him whipping around and destroying things with ease. And to top it off, he was bouncing between several different fighting styles, too many for you to keep up with. You gave up on trying to aid him, he clearly didn’t need it.

Nero was a lot easier to handle, despite having a style that was fairly similar. He had more consistency, using the arms mixed with his usual flare to take out demons with ease. You could manage to keep a tendril on him at all times at the very least. The battlefield was peppered with lightning shots from Griffon, Shadow’s spikes, and the blasting attacks from the two men.

You focused on keeping close to the walls, tendrils suspended and using them to attack with daggers. Now that Dante and Nero were here, you could do better as a support instead of a front runner. V was still standing, luckily. Reading those lines aloud from his little, leather-bound book, eyes focusing on the battle and voice raspy as you commanded the familiars.

His determination was admirable, but you wished he would just _rest_.

The fight in the area ended a lot faster than you anticipated, that was for sure. Dante finished off the last demon with ease, stretching his shoulders afterwards. Cocky and confident as always, it would seem. He didn’t hesitate for a moment, strolling over to the bundle in the middle and shooting it over and over with his twin pistols until it burst in a spray of gore. You hopped down from your perch to V’s side, exchanging a small look with him and brushing your fingers over his face--wiping away some remaining demon blood splattered on his cheek. It made him smile tiredly, leaning into your touch a bit before turning away. 

Just a little affection, where you both could get it.

You walked with him and Nero up to the hole, all of you jumping down at the same time. You cast Feather Fall on yourself and V, trusting that Nero and Dante could handle the plunge on their own. You were correct in that instance--everyone landed nimbly, rising to their feet and looking down another tunnel. Glowing with red light, looking just as fleshy and disgusting as the rest of the tree. It made you wince, rubbing the back of your neck again to try and remove that persisting pain. Still not there yet, it would seem.

“Looks like we still got a long ways to go.” Dante voiced exactly what you were thinking, staring calmly as your group started walking down the new tunnel.

But your Foresight started to flare, warning you that doing so probably wasn’t a good idea. But it was much too late.

“Wait…!” You started to caution them all when the ground suddenly cracked under your feet, crumbling and giving way faster than you could react.

You started to plummet, the movement jostling you all away from each other and causing a startled gasp to leave your throat. You instinctively reached your tendrils out, grasping blindly for V but unable to find purchase. Too much debris, falling too fast--you couldn’t see for a moment, body colliding with someone on the way down that you couldn’t identify. _Son of a bitch._

You snarled under your breath, casting Feather Fall on yourself and anyone your spell could reach before you hit a wall, rolling down a tunnel before falling down again. Fuck, this wasn’t good--you hit the ground ungracefully, air gusting out of your lungs as your tendrils still searched wildly for V’s body. It did find someone, but when you looked up your heart plummeted.

It was Nero, crouching beside you with his hand braced on his knees. He was panting, but uninjured as he turned to meet your gaze. 

No no... _you couldn’t have gotten separated from V again…!_ You immediately sat up, looking around frantically but seeing no sign of him. Even the hole you fell through was now sealed, the tree forming around the debris into a new, solid wall. Fuck--you should have been paying more attention, you should have noticed that the floor was going to cave and grabbed V before you fell. Your heart was pounding now, panic registering on your expression as you rose to your feet.

V was alone again in this goddamn tree, crumbling and in need of you. And you had gotten separated from him.

“V is gone..!” You whispered, hand clutching at your blouse and gripping so hard your knuckles turned white.

Nero let out a slow breath, looking around as well with a furrowed brow, “Son of a bitch, he must have tumbled somewhere else in the tree,” He turned his eyes to you, concern glinting in those grayish blue orbs as he added, “You okay?”

You shook your head, summoning your tendrils off of him and retracting them back into your form. This was as far from okay as you could be, the panic gripping your heart like a vise. You had no idea how far away V was now, the tree was so god damn convoluted and confusing. You activated your Void sense, thinking about the vial of whale oil he still had. You could sense where it was, but no specifics--the Qliphoth had too many layers and tunnels to figure out a path.

“I have to get back to him,” You murmured, turning your gaze to Nero once more as your eye color went back to normal, “We need to keep moving--if the paths converge at some point we should be able to meet up. If not…”

You couldn’t imagine that worst case scenario.

“Ease up kid,” Nero commented, patting your shoulder lightly before starting forward, “We’ll find him, don’t worry. We’re all goin’ to the same place after all.”

You nodded, but the despair was still there as you replied softly, “Yes but I’m more worried about him not making it there.” 

He was so weak, frail and falling to pieces. Your energy seemed to be the only thing keeping him going, and now...

You heard Nero sigh, unable to think of a reply to your terse statement. It occurred to you that he had been spouting optimism, and your response essentially fought back with negativity. You felt bad immediately, shoulders slumping as you turned to meet his gaze again. You could tell he was worried about you, and V as well. Trying his best to remain optimistic for you while you were focusing on the bad.

_You shouldn’t be anticipating V’s death. You’re better than that._

“You’re right,” You murmured, rubbing your aching neck again as you looked away, “I’m sorry...I swear I’m not usually so pessimistic.”

Nero smiled a bit in response, taking a few steps closer to you and placing a hand on your hair. The action surprised you, making you look up at him and blink in confusion as he replied, “Don’t sweat it, you’ve had a pretty rough time all things considered,” He pulled away, awkwardly clearing his throat as he mumbled, “No shame in worryin’ about someone and all that shit.”

That made you smile, enjoying the way his ears turned pink with embarrassment. Nero certainly hid nothing with reactions like that.

“All I can do is my best,” You replied, letting out a slow breath and rolling your shoulders a bit. Time to shake off the worry, to keep moving forward again, “We should get going, or else Dante will beat us there.”

Nero nodded in agreement, but his brow was furrowed again as he lifted up his metal hand. You watched as he flexed the fingers, sparks popping up from the knuckles and buzzing with an electrical noise that definitely spoke of trouble. You recalled it looking a little worse for wear earlier, during the fight. Upon glancing at his belt, you realized he plowed through quite a few of those arms since the last time he saw Nico. There was only one left.

“Dammit, running a little low…” He mumbled to himself, a troubled look slipping onto his face as more sparks traveled up the length of the arm itself, “Not gonna last much longer without a refill.”

You let out a low hum of agreement, debating on if you could maybe fix the arm with the Void powers when you heard an all-too familiar sound approaching. Honking, coming closer accompanied with the screech of tires. You and Nero paused, you flinching right was the van came hurtling off a nearby ledge, swerving just inches from you both in a very dangerous fashion. 

As expected, the mechanic liked to make a grand entrance. Nero grabbed you to pull you out of the way, letting out a hefty sound of annoyance as the Devil May Cry van screeched to a halt right in front of you. Another solid landing from Nico, it would seem. The close shave did nothing for your nerves, heart pounding as you released all the air in your lungs.

The dust had barely settled when Nico popped the door open, wearing her welding gear as she smirked at you both.

“Hey honey, need assistance?” She greeted in a low drawl, crossing her arms and looking pretty smug all things considered.

Nero was less than amused, scowling at the mechanic as he responded, “What the hell’s your problem? Are you TRYIN’ to kill us?”

You wouldn’t have put it that harshly, but inside you were echoing the sentiment. You loved Nico dearly, but her driving was terrifying to you. One could only come so close to being hit by a car that many times without developing a complex.

Nico rolled her eyes at his loud exclamation, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder as she replied, “If you wanna bitch, blame it on Lady. _She’s_ the one behind the wheel.”

You and the white haired boy both turned just in time to see Lady appear in the passenger side window. She was smiling, looking positively innocent as she gave you both a little wave of her fingers. At least she looked like she was enjoying herself, and seeing both of them eased a lot of the tension swirling in your gut. Christ, had it only been an hour? It felt much longer than that. You were completely losing track of time, mind bouncing in and out of focus on reality and that tunnel vision barely leaving you. It couldn’t have been healthy, but things needed to go much faster to you. V was all alone and you needed to reach him.

Nero only shook his head at the women, sighing under his breath and seeming appropriately exasperated. Honestly, you didn’t blame him in that aspect.

“Okay, enough with the suspense,” Nico clapped her hands to move things along, tone impatient as she asked, “What do you need?”

Nero gave her a half smirk, lifting his metal hand and waggling the sparking fingers a bit. Not a word said, but message put across loud and clear. Nico immediately nodded, turning and rushing back into the van with a low huff. She didn’t comment on Nero breaking her stuff this time, which was nice all on its own.

The demon hunter went to follow her inside, pausing only to turn back and glance at you as he said, “I’ll make this quick. After I get some arms, we’ll head out and find V, okay?”

You nodded, rubbing a hand on the back of your neck as you replied, “I’ll be out here.”

He smiled a bit, turning around and hopping into the mobile home. You appreciated his calm determination, trying to make you feel more at ease. Nero could only do so much to help, though, considering what a mess everything was. Left out of the loop as well. He disappeared out of sight, leaving you with Lady, the next step in your five part process of trying to remain calm.

She popped back into the van, only to appear at the door. The older woman could immediately sense your worry, that much was apparent as she pulled you into a hug, smoothing your hair back from your face. By the Void, what would you do without any of them? Lady’s affection was so needed in that moment, settling the pounding of your heart down and making you squeeze your eyes shut.

“You got separated,” Lady sighed softly, leaning back so she could pat your cheek, “Don’t worry, he has those familiars with him. He’ll be fine, and I know you. Things get done when you’re focused on them.”

You smiled lightly, but it was a bit sad if you were being completely honest-- your heart was feeling particularly heavy at her words. In reality...you and Lady didn’t know each other very long. But her firm phrasing, the absolutely confidence she excluded...it made you feel better.

Trish poked her head out of the van before you could reply, looking around with a frown as she too registered the lack of a goth with you.

“You and the poet got separated?” She stepped out of the van, approaching you and eyeing you up a bit. You could tell Trish still didn’t know what to think of you, and you agreed with the sentiment. You didn’t know what to feel about her either. She seemed nice enough, but she was overly wary and a bit more rough around the edges than Lady.

But you nodded at her, tone low as you mumbled, “Unfortunately.”

She let out a light sigh, leaning against the side of the van and frowning at you. What else could you say to her? You knew better than to ask about what was going on with V, despite how unhappy she looked about everything. Hell, it looked like she herself wanted to tell you, but her tongue was tied. Now that V was not with you, that feeling was back in spades, the sensation of absolutely hating the situation and having no control over it. From both Trish and yourself.

You registered the fact that her arms were crossed, fingers tapping lightly--it seemed to be a nervous tick of hers. But...she still said nothing, something akin to guilt in her eyes as she looked away from you.

You wanted to know so badly it ached inside. But begging and pleading for the truth felt so...selfish.

It didn’t matter anyway. Nico came bouncing out of the van with Nero behind her, fresh Devil Breakers on his belt and a new one on his arm. He seemed pleased at the very least--all set up and ready to go. And true to his word, he made it fast. That made you sigh lightly in relief, ready to go again and look for the goth you were so worried about. But the others had plans for you, so that wasn’t happening quite yet.

Lady patted your cheek again before pulling away, standing to the side so the mechanic could walk up to you. She was carrying something in her hands, another box similar to the one your daggers had been in. What in the world did she have up her sleeve now?

You blinked, rocking back on your heels and registering her excited expression. The woman was practically vibrating in place, grinning eagerly and those curls bouncing.

“Before y’all head out,” She told you, thrusting the box into your hand firmly, “I told you I was gonna show you what I was makin’ with that fancy crystal.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but closed it at the smug look she wore. Like a peacock, beautiful feathers displayed to the world. This was her element, her craft, and judging by that confidence she had cobbled up something fantastic.

You decided not to waste anymore time, or ask any questions.

You opened the box, eyes widening on what was inside. What in the world was that? It looked similar to a gauntlet, but more thin in design, woven with metal that looked like it took an unbelievable amount of work. Elegant, streamlined. It almost seemed like jewelry, it was so lovely. Throughout the thin silver metal was the black crystal, coming to sharp, ebony claws for the knuckles. How the hell had Nico conjured up such a design like this? You didn’t know what to say, expression awed as you lifted it out of the box and slipped it onto your arm. It fit...perfectly, like it was tailored for you. Not too tight, but it wouldn’t slide either.

The instant the metal touched your skin, the Void Crystal let out a hushed sound, like muffled whispers from the inky blackness itself. Cold, it was so cold. But you were used to such a feeling.

“I measured your arm when you were asleep that one day,” Nico admitted, but looking pleased at how it fit onto your body, “What do ya think?”

You paused, flexing your fingers and enjoying how the metal sounded. It looked sharp, deadly, and unlike anything you had used before. To be honest...you were impressed.

“It's so lovely I don’t know what to say,” You replied, mustering a genuinely happy smile for her, “I don’t have anything to pay you with, though. What does it do?”

“You’re gonna find out,” Nico chuckled, winking at you as she took the box away. You felt a shiver travel up your spine as you turned your gaze back to the gauntlet--like the daggers then? You were a tester for her product, more than willing to do so considering how beautiful it looked. Nico seemed to sense your thoughts, smirking sassily as she added,  “Promise to tell me what it does and we’ll call it even.”

You smiled wider in relief, stepping up and pressing a kiss to Nico’s cheek. That made her chuckle, grinning a dopey smile at you as you pulled away.

Nero huffed in mock anger, crossing his arms at the display as he quipped, “How come you give her special treatment? I work my butt off for these arms and she gets free stuff and a kiss?” You could tell he wasn’t really upset, there was definitely amusement in that face of his. Those lips were twitching, fighting a smile to no avail.

Nico let out a snort, flicking him on his forehead before she turned away, _“She_ doesn’t break my merchandise _and_ she’s cute,” She shoved his shoulder, tone turning impatient as she ordered, “Now both of you get goin’! Lady, Trish and I will be hanging around while y’all finish off the big baddie.”

Nero rolled his eyes, waving her off as he replied, “Yeah yeah,” He turned, meeting your gaze and jerking his chin forward, “Let’s go.”

You nodded, waving your now-clawed hand at the three girls before following quickly after the white haired boy. It felt like it belonged on your body, and any advantage you could get in battle was so needed. It didn’t seem to leech from you either, your Void energy not extending to that arm to fuel it. But you could feel it there, feel its presence and knew it was something you could easily activate when needed.

And you were positive you were going to need it.

“Thank you, Nico!” You called to the mechanic before you and Nero disappeared out of sight, heading deeper into the tree.

**_(V’s POV)_ **

You were gone. _You were gone._

V was panting in panic, grunting from the strain of being held up by Griffon’s talons. His gaze swept all over for you, but he saw no sign of your familiar form, nor those tendrils you generally used to help him. Fear gripped his heart, pained now that your presence was not soothing his weary soul. What had happened? How were you separated from him? _Were you alright?_ The questions bounced around his skull, not ending even as he realized he was suspended high in the air, barely held by his struggling familiar.

He was so weak now, both of them were considering V was falling apart so fast. And now, with you not here to keep him standing...V could feel his heart thudding against his ribs, roaring in his ears as he released pained grunts. He had come to rely on you far too much, for everything. You love, your affection, your aid. He was a greedy creature and it showed even more when he was away from you, thoughts unable to stop at the idea of moving on without you here.

The tree was so vast and confusing, he could only hope you had managed to fall somewhere with the others. He couldn’t bare the idea of you wandering around alone.

“I can’t carry you anymore…!” Griffon managed through his strain, tone coming out in a strangled groan as he flapped his sapphire wings as hard as he could, “I gotta put you down, I gotta--”

His grip slipped on the poet as he spoke, V falling the remaining feet to the ground to an ungraceful roll. Your spell had made the landing painless, but the movement made his skull rattle a bit. God, he felt like absolute shit, there was no mistaking that in the slightest. The room swayed before it settled, V’s limbs feeling so painfully heavy as he struggled to bring himself to his feet. This wasn’t good, he was deteriorating faster than even he expected. His lungs were rattling like they were filled with dust, each breath wheezing out painfully as he gripped that silver cane. Griffon seemed no better, flopping on the ground next to him and looking equally exhausted before he absorbed back into V’s tattoos.

“Damn,” The poet rasped, trying to use the cane to pull himself to his feet, “Just a little longer…!”

_You are coming undone, both in your head and in physicality._

His body didn’t get the memo, not wanting to cooperate with his words as he grunted, “Come on…!”

He collapsed again, falling forward with a low sound of pain as it spider-webbed through his already aching limbs. He was weak, far too weak. Panting heavily, brow furrowed and a grimace on his lips as he lifted his jade eyes. Urizen was so close, he needed to make it there without fail--this set back couldn’t stop him, he refused to lie down on the ground and give up without reaching you, without having you by his side. He still tried to stand once more, barely managing to drag his battered body up on one knee, then up further still as he leaned on his cane heavier than before.

As long as he still had this body, had this form, he would keep treading forward.

“I must...go…” He rasped, tone filled with desperation as he steadied himself. Finally on two legs again, albeit weak ones, “Before he loses completely…!”

He started forward, leaning on his silver cane with each step. As long as he walked, he could make it back to you. He wanted to feel it again, your warm kiss, the squeeze of your hand, that smile on him. Your usually cheerful face had been so sad since you learned of his condition, no matter how much you tried to hide it he knew how much you were hurting. You were falling apart inside, while he was on the outside. The thought made his teeth grind, breathes coming short and quick as he pressed onward. What more could he do? That guilt was so loud, but god he couldn’t bring himself to tell you the truth.

He would accept his death if it meant being with you in the end. If the others could destroy Urizen after he crumbled to pieces...well, was he really needed then?

A nagging sensation pressed at his skull, loud and jarring as always. The need to reunite, the need to return. He couldn’t just lie down and fade away, he had a place to be...a person to be again. Those memories were still there and fresh, his desires the same as that person he was before. Power, he needed to be strong again. Without him, the man that was Vergil would cease to be.. _.he_ would cease to be. And that alone was the only thing stopping him from accepting death, from holding himself back and staying with you. He knew what needed to be done, and god it would be painfully.

But it didn’t change his fate. He needed to return.

The poet kept going for what felt like an eternity, so lost in his thoughts that he found himself paying no attention to his surroundings. His familiars stayed inside his tattoos, just as weak and tired as he was. No extending unnecessary energy, not when they were so close, Urizen just within the tree waiting for that fruit to ripen. The thought made V wince, pressing a hand to his forehead as he kept walking. He was nearing a new area, one with glowing purple stones lining a path to the next part of the tree. They almost looked runic in origin, like spells were etched onto their glowing surfaces.

A pity he didn’t realize sooner that was exactly the case.

The instant he stepped into the middle of the room, a wave of energy tore through his already-battered form. It hurt, it was destroying him from the inside. His body jolted, a strangled cry of agony leaving his lips as the sensation ripped through him, tearing out whatever it found and causing the black of the tattoos and his hair to leave him in a burst. Three orbs came with it, swirling away as he fell to his knees, once ebony locks now white and skin barren of any marks. Only the cracks remained, creating a roadmap of agony over his skin as he tipped forward onto the ground.

No no...this couldn’t be happening, not now. Not when he was so close.

A trap, he had walked into _a god damn trap_. He wasn’t thinking, wasn’t paying attention at all while he walked into the room, a fatal mistake. His familiars were no longer with him, vision fading fast as he weakly lifted his eyes. Someone was there in the room, that raspy chuckle unmistakable even as unconsciousness started to grip his weary body. Malphas, she had set this up to stop him, to weaken him before he could go any further.

And she had succeeded.

V’s vision slipped away, his final thoughts before slipping under only of you, of what you would think if you found him in such a sorry state.

He hoped you wouldn’t. He couldn’t bare to make you cry again.

**_(Your POV)_ **

Walking through this part of the Qliphoth was an absolute nightmare.

Spike traps were lining the walls, blocking your path in several locations. You had never seen anything like it, thin, pointed blades jutting in and out of the disgusting landscape over and over. It was completely impractical, and ridiculous. You found yourself more annoyed than worried about your safety--it seemed almost silly, like something you’d see from a cheap villain to try and stop the progress of a hero on their way to defeat them. You weren’t impressed, and you were heavily impatient to make it to the next area. Hell, this whole part of the Qliphoth was hard to navigate by the looks of it, with sloping edges and high walls to get past. Platforming.

Nero didn’t look impressed either, in fact it seemed pretty goddamn boring to him. You watched as the boy retrieved a new arm from his belt, switching it out with the one he was wearing and clicking it in place. You had no idea what this new arm would do, but Nero seemed convinced it would fix the problem. You were ready to just snap the blades off if you needed to, but if he had a better solution...well, you were willing to wait a moment to see what he would do.

Much to your surprise, he took a hold of your arm, tugging you closer and leveling his gaze on your face.

“When I activate this arm, bolt through as fast as you can.” He told you, lifting said arm and flexing his metal fingers for emphasis.

You nodded slowly, summoning your tendrils and readying yourself for whatever the hell he was doing. Nero turned his gaze forward again, letting out a grunt as he lifted the metal arm right when the blades were retracting.

_“Ragtime…!”_

As soon as he spoke, a blue orb formed from his hand, the area it encompassed slowing down time to the barest of crawls. Enough so that you both could move past, the spikes halted perfectly. Is that’s what this arm did? A means to slow down time, probably able to catch enemies as well. You immediately bolted through, repeating the process with Nero at your side. Over and over, one trap after another. You were able to move faster with someone like him, his movement precise and nimble--easy to bounce off of. It was relieving, knowing that you could make your way to V as fast as possible.

You were so used to going at V’s pace, but now that you were traveling with Nero you could really stretch your legs. Most of the location required him to travel using his punchline, and you to use your tendrils. Bounding, leaping, in air most of the time as you followed safely behind him. It was interesting, seeing Nero gliding along on his arm like he was. At least he was enjoying himself--it looked like he was on a skateboard to be completely honest. The idea made you smile a bit, carefully hiding it so he didn’t notice your musing. You could totally imagine Nero as one of those edgy skater boys as a teenager, a thought that was heavily entertaining.

Didn’t last long though. Not with how much worry was weighing you down.

Your mind kept bouncing back to V, circling around all the facts you had acquired while traveling with him. It was a mess, everything with Dante, Urizen, and the mystery contender...Vergil. It was all of little consequence now that V was missing from your side, his condition when you left him alarming enough the way it was. God, you hoped he was okay. He had to be, you couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing him again.

You didn’t doubt Griffon and Shadow’s ability to take care of him, to get him to where he needed to be. But if he finally gave out, they wouldn’t be able to go on either. You were counting seconds now, trying to do the math on how much energy you had left him with. Enough to make it to you? Enough to keep moving? You could only guess, and hope.

Nero could definitely sense your unease, which was surprising. Once you passed the obstacle course portion of the location, you could feel him glancing at you a few times. Was that worry and hesitation on his face? Sure looked like it. He was quiet for the most part, probably unsure of what to say while you both walked side by side. It wasn’t awkward though, not in the slightest.

He didn’t really engage in conversation for a few more moments, the sound of his voice jarring you out of wandering thoughts.

“So...you and V, huh?” Now he was sounding awkward, clearing his throat when you turned to look at him. It was fine in your opinion--you could tell Nero was trying.

You smiled ruefully, casting your eyes downwards as you replied, “Does it seem surprising?”

“In your case? No,” Nero shrugged his shoulders, looking at you with a sidelong glance, “In V’s case? Yeah. I’ve known him for a month and he’s a pretty secretive guy, kept to himself.”

That made you sigh in agreement, hand rubbing your aching neck again, “He’s fairly secretive with me as well. I still don’t know what he’s hiding.”

Something about the way you spoke made a thoughtful expression cross over the white-haired boy’s face. He paused for a moment, the silence ticking by while he contemplated what he wanted to say. You doubted there was a thing he could ask that you weren’t already asking yourself--you had gone through the stages, the emotions, and came up with no answers every time. It was maddening.

“...You say there’s things you don’t know,” Nero finally continued, hopping down from another ledge with a low grunt of exertion, “But you still fell for the guy. Why do you think that is?”

You opened your mouth, landing nimbly as well and staring at the back of his head while he kept walking. Now that was a good question for him to ask, but the answer felt pretty simple to you at least.

Your feet started moving again, bringing you back to his side while you let out a low laugh, “We’re both cut from the same, miserable cloth,” You stared ahead, ignoring Nero’s questioning gaze when it turned to you once more, “We were both sad, and both lonely. Both longing for things we don’t have. It only made sense that we would get closer to each other.”

_He will become another reminder. Another pain._

But it was more than that...wasn’t it? He felt like home, like he belonged in your arms and with you. There wasn’t a part of you that wasn’t charmed by him, transfixed on the way he spoke, how he thought and acted. He wasn’t perfect in any sense, but you didn’t want perfection. He was a glorified mess of a man, carrying himself with the energy of someone put together and poised. But he was your mess.

Nero furrowed his brow, but there was a look of understanding in his expression as he turned away again. You didn’t need to elaborate to put across what you meant, but judging by his mannerisms he was incredibly deep in thought. That look of concentration made you smile, tapping the claws of your new gauntlet on your opposing arm as you kept walking.

You weren’t the only one worried about V. That showed pretty easily on Nero’s face. Hell, it was the demon hunter himself who had suggested you help V, seeing your connection before even you could and sending you along with him. There was protection in those actions, even if Nero didn’t seem to realize himself.

“You don’t know a lot about V either,” You hummed, making him blink in surprise, “But you still care about his well-being, don’t you?”

Nero let out a huff at that, scratching his white hair as he replied, “Well, yeah. V is decent enough, and I definitely don’t want the guy to die.”

You shared the sentiment, but you could tell Nero cared about V because the poet was the only one who believed in him enough to bring him on this mission.

You clasped your hands in front of you, amusement fading into the low feeling of despair. To say you missed V would be an understatement, as would be saying you were worried.

“I don’t need to know everything to love him,” You replied to Nero softly, letting out a slow breath and tilting your chin up once more. Eyes forward, feet walking, focused on the path ahead, “Just as I know you don’t need to know everything about Kyrie to love her.”

Mentioning his lover at home made his ears flush again, Nero looking away and clearing his throat. Not before you saw that dopey, adoring smile he wore just by hearing her name. Nero was a good kid, you could tell that much about him. Rough around the edges, but passionate about the people he cared about. He loved Kyrie with every part of his reckless, stubborn body and that showed with his every reaction to her. That was a story you would love to hear sometime, about how they fell for each other in the first place. But that was for another time.

You and the boy were nearing a new area, and your Foresight was flaring in heavy alarm.

You opened your mouth to stop Nero, but you could hear a familiar voice coming from ahead, one that sent a chill shivering up your spine. Rasping, inhuman sounding, a bit nasally.

_Carefully, tread carefully. You know this threat._

There was no doubt--it was Malphas, the three part woman on the back of a glorified bird demon. The last time you saw her, she was talking to the horseman who injured V...a powerful creature, one that even V didn’t want to take on. She was still alive, and worse she was still wandering around the Qliphoth? You didn’t know why, but for some reason you assumed one of the other boys would have killed her already.

Nero didn’t seem perturbed, rounding the corner and walking into the new area with confidence in his step. You sighed--what was the point in warning him when he was already loading up his gun? He seemed to already guess there was a fight to be had, and he was more than willing to do so. You summoned your tendrils, preparing yourself as you followed beside him and surveyed the new location.

Big, not a tunnel and more of a cavern. Malphas was in fact here, her back to you as she slowly approached a ledge on the opposite side of the location. Her tone was a purr, filled with an eerie warning as she said, _“I’m cooominnnggg…_ ”

Who the hell was she talking to?

You lifted yourself up with your tendrils, trying to survey what was on the ledge while Nero aimed his gun at her multiple heads. If anyone could handle her, it was him--you were more so focused on who she was trying to get at. As soon as you were high enough to see, you felt your stomach do flips, shock and relief mingling with an intense worry. That black hair, lanky form, silver cane and dark tattoos...He was unmistakable, and backed in a corner with Malphas steadily approaching.

_V was here._

_V was alive._

Even from where you were, you could see he was afraid. Body pressed tightly to the wall and pants lifting his chest. He looks so scared. Crumbling still, Griffon next to him and both desperately trying to stay out of sight. Every protective instinct activated in you the next instant, heart hammering and Void power spiking angrily at the creature about to attack him. You could kill her, you could fight.

But...V needed you more.

His expression made your heart ache,  body springing into action as soon as the first bullet left Nero’s gun.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all knew this day would come, and now its here. Hope you enjoy this chapter, ive been looking forward to it since day one. And we're still no where near done :3

_Chapter 24_

Everything seemed to move in slow motion for a moment.

You were suspended in mid air, tendrils extended and Void power burning in your lungs like frostbite. Cold, so cold, but far too necessary. The need to protect V outweighed any pain it caused, brain completely switching into instinct mode with the threat level so high. Nero could handle Malphas, of that there was no doubt in your mind. He didn’t bother to try and stop your launch in V’s direction, in fact he looked ready and willing to take all of the agro off of your poet. He raised the gun, a cocky smirk on his lips as a warning shot cracked off the back of Malphas’ numerous heads.

_Bang._

Her echoing screams were like nails on a chalkboard, but you couldn’t be bothered with that at the moment. Your poet was here, _he was alive_. And that was all your frazzled brain could focus on. Before he could so much as react to what was happening, your arms were around his form, pulling him against you as all the air left your freezing lungs. By the Void, he was barely held together--the cracking made him look and feel like a porcelain doll, so fragile you were afraid even that embrace would make him crumble apart. 

But...he didn’t, everything seeming to fall into place now that you were with him once more.

“Sparrow…!” His voice came in a low gasp, arms snaking around your waist to pull you tighter against him once he registered it was you. He was trembling, chest rising and falling with shaking gasps as he whispered, “You’re alright...you’re…”

He was worried about you? The very notion made your heart want to break in half, a shuddering breath gracing your lips as they pressed against his. _He_ was the one in danger, crumbling under your hands and on the verge of fading away at any moment. How could he possibly be more fearful for _you_ while in such a terrible state as he was? Even his lips felt chilled, dry, but it didn’t stop you from kissing him like his life depended on it. In that moment...it definitely felt like it did.

“I’m so sorry…!” You whimpered in reply, finally pulling away and pressing your forehead to his. Each breath lingered in the air between you, yours making clouds of frost, “I should have been more careful…! I was so scared that you would be...that…”

_You couldn’t admit that you were afraid of his death._

The message came across plain and clear, that you could tell by his expression. Those elegant fingers cupped your cheeks, the pain you felt echoed in his jade orbs--but mingled with the all too-close companions of guilt and despair. There was so much you wanted to say, desperate to try and soothe that ache you were both feeling so heavily. But you knew none of it would matter, not now. Not when things were so raw. All you could do was wrap the tendrils around his body, summoning as much power the poet could handle to try and offset his condition.

 _“From the Void, Into You._ ”

He closed his eyes and groaned once those familiar words left your lips, his muscles tensing at what you knew to be an onslaught of pain. So much of the Void’s power was incredibly rough on those not accustomed to it, but this too was necessary. Nero was taking up the task of fighting Malphas below you both, the sounds of battle loud and echoing through the cavern. It all seemed to quiet while you concentrated on V, sharing your energy and holding his head against your chest. The cracking, as expected, did not clear in the slightest. But V’s form relaxed once you retreated the tendrils, a heavy breath brushing past his lips

You hoped to god that it eased his burden, even the slightest.

“I’m sorry this is all that I can do,” You murmured, pressing your lips to his ebony hair for a soft kiss, “Once Nero finishes her, we can head out again. It’s not much further, right? Just a little bit more, and we can take back what Urizen stole from--”

But you didn’t get to finish your sentence.

V wrapped his arms around your form suddenly, making you release a sound of surprise as you were tugged body to body with him. His back was to the wall again, leaving you both out of sight from those fighting below. What had gotten into him? A wild gasp escaped his lips, meshing with yours in a frenzy that left you dizzy, more intense than anything you had shared since _that night._

_What in the world brought this on?_

His firm hands startled you, fingers sliding into your hair so he could press a harder, more heated kiss to your mouth until you were whimpering at the sensation. That intensity...it was jarring to say the least, heart pounding in your ears at the feeling of his tongue brushing yours. His affection had always been welcome, but this felt different. Too much desperation, like he had been drowning and you were the only air he had received in days.

“V…” You whispered softly once the kiss broke, face flushing when he pressed those lips to your neck. He lingered there, air from his nose brushing your skin in slow, steady bursts.

He felt so...tired, something about his actions made you want to cry.

“Please indulge me for a few more moments,” He whispered to you, his black hair draped over his face as the time between you stretched into minutes, “I need...this. Just a bit more.”

There was a heaviness to his body language, the phrasing and cadence he used...V made it sound like he was committing you to memory, savoring as much of you he could get before the final stretch. That did not jive well, especially not when it was coupled with a  thousand other terrible feelings. But...the feeling of his hands, the affection you both shared was as necessary to you as it was for him. All you could do was suck in a shuddering breath, holding him close and counting each heartbeat you shared. He was here in your arms, and as long as he existed there was hope.

_Right?_

“I love you,” You murmured, relaxing your form and straddling his waist as gently as you could. Trying not to put too much weight on him, “We will make it through this. We will.”

You felt V’s breathing hitch, his hands sliding up your back and tracing the lines between your shoulder blades. Feather-light, gentle like he was touching glass.

“As I love you,” He whispered, tone low and honeyed--as much as he could manage with his throat so weak, “You bring me so much happiness, Sparrow. Far more than I ever deserved.”

You didn’t like how he said that, it felt like a goodbye.

“V…” But the time shared was up, moment shattered like a glass dome before you could formulate the turmoil in your head.

It didn’t last nearly as long as you liked, especially with Nero giving Malphas a thorough ass-kicking down below. Her dying screams were pretty obvious at some point, ending the orchestra of gunshots and explosions from the boy’s devil breaker arms. You turned your head in enough time to see her collapse, the hellish creature that was her lower half slumped over and lifeless. Was it a part of her body, or something she was riding? It hardly mattered. Her cauldron cast a purple glow over her battered form, cracked and dripping a mysterious liquid down onto the Qliphoth floor.

 _“How do you have so much power left?_!” Malphas rasped between her dying pants, raising clawed fingers in Nero’s direction like she still had some fight remaining in her body.

Nero didn’t give her the satisfaction of a reply, whipping out his pistol again to level another gunshot to her face, effectively putting an end to Malphas once and for all. She slumped over her cauldron, disintegrating into bright purple flecks that drifted into the open air and leaving a blissful silence in her wake. Christ, Nero made it look easy. Not a scratch on him, that cocky smile unwavering as he put his weapons back where they belonged. Part of you felt strangely proud--you knew he could handle her alone, and he more than proved it. She was definitely a formidable battle to go against, and for the white-haired demon hunter it was practically child’s play.

He turned, looking up to where you and V were hiding and calling out firmly, “You can come out now.”

You pulled back from V, exchanging a small glance with him before rising to your feet once more. The look in his eyes made you ache terribly, as much as you knew he tried to hide it. Flickering there before gone again, the all too familiar desperation and guilt you saw too much in him. It was settling in your stomach like lead weights, mingling with the Void’s burn and creating the most unbelievable sensation that something was going to go wrong. Trish’s firm gaze was still an image in your mind, setting off warning alarms that refused to quiet.

You wanted to ask him. _You wanted to ask._

But he summoned Griffon before you could even open your mouth, grabbing your hand as the bird yanked you both up and glided you toward the ground. You could tell your avian friend was straining, a heavy grunt leaving his beak as he deposited you and V in front of Nero—he seemed barely able to manage, dropping you off like weights. The tendrils in your body snapped out to cushion the brunt of the fall, a huff of air escaping your lungs. You wanted to say something to him, maybe make a quip about how he needed to work out more. But...he disappeared, dissolving back into V’s form again.

That was by far the quietest you had seen the demonic bird, not to mention how short he had stayed. Something about that unsteadied you, especially when you realized he hadn’t even looked in your direction or acknowledged your presence. Was he just as tired as V was, needing to stay in his master’s form more than ever now? Or was it something else?

Neither sounded ideal.

“Great job, Nero,” You murmured to him, straightening your spine and turning your eyes to meet his, “Knew you could handle Malphas on your own. Are you hurt at all?”

He shook his head, a half smile tilting his lips as he replied, “Nah, I’m all good. She wasn’t much of a fight, if you ask me.”

You nodded in understanding, but before the smile could form on your lips you felt V’s form start to sway next to your own.

Everything seemed to halt, tendrils snapping out to catch him before he could even dream of hitting the ground. You saw Nero’s expression morph into shock, reaching out the same time you did and grasping V by his upper arms. There was no fight in the poet’s body, his eyes closed and breath coming in rattles that sounded like death itself gripping his lungs. _No no no,_ he wasn’t any better, even with that much energy? You felt your heart begin to race in panic, holding up V’s form and trying to stop every terrifying thought worming its way back into your skull. His well-being, his secrets, everything you didn’t know…

 _All that you love, you are destined to lose_.

The Void’s whispers grew, morphing into a low hum that made your teeth grind. You were in no mood for its bullshit, not when things were already so goddamn awful. There wasn’t a thing you wouldn’t give to shut up the progressively increasing voices, it least until this nightmare ended. You needed to focus, to swallow down the rising bile and do what needed to be done.

“V…!” You gasped, feeling Nero come up on his other side to put an arm around the poet’s waist. He looked equally as worried, gaze flickering over V’s struggling body with concern furrowing his brow, “Are you alright? Do you need more energy?”

_Please, tell me what to do. I don’t know what to do._

V shook his head, letting out a light laugh as he replied, “No...It’ll do no good. We... need to get to Urizen,” He lifted his head, looking at you from underneath his ebony locks as he rasped, “Sparrow, do you think you can clear the way? Nero will help get me to our... destination.”

 _What?_ You blinked at his request, wondering what changed his mind when you had suggested that very idea not that long ago. Why now of all times did he want to be separated from you, after just managing to get back together again? For a second, you felt hurt, expression trying not to shift as you searched his face for any indication of his reasoning.

He looked so...drained. The cracking more prominent than any other feature of his face, jade eyes hooded and dark circles lining them. You closed your mouth right away, swallowing any questions you may of had at the expression he wore. He couldn’t fight any more, that was for certain. Nero would have an easier time carrying him than you would with your tendrils, V was far too lanky for you to manage. As much as the notion upset you, the need to help in any way you could was far higher up on your list.

So you nodded, biting down the hurt before it could fully form and replying, “I’ll scout ahead and kill any demons I find,” Your eyes settled on Nero, conveying every thought in your head as you told him, “Keep him safe for me. I’ll meet you at the end of the line.”

The demon hunter nodded, looking between you both with an expression ranging somewhere in between concern and confusion. There was no telling what he was thinking in that moment, but it scarcely mattered. You didn’t wait for any other answer, turning away from them both and launching yourself down the respective path with your tendrils. Your Void power was spreading pain through your stomach and throat, the rune on your belt letting out a strange sound that felt a bit too ominous for your liking.

Not much more fighting, then you could solve this issue with the others aid. At least...that’s what you hoped, rubbing your fingers on that aching part of your neck and making your way through the tunnel.

**_(V POV)_ **

Seeing you go again after just getting you back was like a blow to his chest, but it needed to be done.

He needed to talk to Nero, even if it was just a few minutes. There was too much to explain, to get off his chest in such a short amount of time. V could sense it now, the growing sensation that was Urizen ever so close to his location. It prickled along his spine, every cell in his body screaming at him to move, to get to where he needed to be. The feeling was indescribable, but even through it all you were there, a beacon among the white noise filling his weary skull.

Kissing you before felt far too much like a goodbye, but he needed to get his fill before it was too late. To memorize the feeling of your hands, your lips, the way you sighed softly and stroked back his hair. He feared that, no matter what happened between himself and Urizen, he would never get to feel those sensations again.

He needed to tell things to Nero that you couldn’t hear, to make sure you would be alright after he was gone. It was burning on his tongue, desperation and despair fueling him as he gripped part of Nero’s coat.

He was surprised when Nero spoke first, his tone firm and resolute as he said, “You should turn around, your body isn’t gonna last much longer,” He looked in the direction you had disappeared in, a frown on his face, “She’s afraid for you, and each moment you waste going after Urizen is another you could be using to fix yourself.”

V paused, panting with strain when Nero started to lug his body forward despite his own protests. He sounded worried, for both you and the poet himself. It was...surprising to say the least.

“That...I cannot do. There is no way to fix what is wrong with me,” He rasped in reply, limping forward with his head hanging low, “I must go…!”

There was only one way to fix things. He couldn’t afford to wait any longer, not in this state. Your energy was barely weaving together what remained of his failing soul and tattered flesh. He could feel it draining even as he walked, greedily devoured by his half-soul in a desperate attempt to stay in existence. It was inevitable that it would never cease in its hunger, and that never ending pining would eventually lead to starvation. There was one thing he needed now, and it was just within grasp.

He wished it was that easy, to find a different solution and be free of the burden of his existence. To live a life with you...whole, his own self. He wanted it more than anything, more than the air he breathed.

Nero let out a curse, hefting V up more and replying in exasperation, “Dammit, V. Don’t push yourself, you need some rest!”

If only it were that easy. There was no more time left to rest.

“I must go,” He insisted as much as he could with his throat so raw, leaning on Nero and his cane. His feet kept moving, forcing the devil hunter to move with him, “To where Urizen is….!”

Nero halted, letting out a frustrated sigh and setting V down for a moment. The poet felt his heart speed up, that clawing desperation coming back as he met the white-haired boy’s angry gaze.

“Why?! Why the hell do I have to--” Nero began in a terse tone, his emotions rising up until V cut off his words.

“I beg you…!” He rasped, making Nero freeze and meet his heavy, jade eyes.

What was...that expression?

V swallowed, hating when he saw a glimpse of emotion in the devil hunter’s eyes, emotion that  reminded him of what he saw in you. That fear, concern, and there was genuine caring if he wasn’t mistaken. It made V feel...so very strange--he didn’t realize until then how much he had come to trust Nero, to consider him a friend. The boy was the only one who, before you, talked to him like a normal person, to consider him an equal. You two were so alike in that way, both full of raw emotion and caring with every ounce of your bodies.

That was why Nero was the only one V could trust with this, the only one he could ask.

“This is my last request,” He said in a quiet tone, his tone rattling with each breath of air he sucked in, “I want you to promise me, whatever happens down there. You will make sure Y/N is safe...that when I’m gone, she will have a home and family to help her.”

He couldn’t bear the thought, the idea of you falling to pieces with him gone. You deserved to have people who cared, ones who would take care of you when he was no longer there to do so.

Nero blinked in shock at V’s words, his jaw tightening visibly like he was grinding his teeth. The poet saw his mechanical hand clench into a fist, making the metal groan and protest under the strain. He was upset by this, that much was heavily apparent.

“Does she know?” He growled, narrowing his eyes on V’s face and tone incredibly heavy.

V sighed softly, turning his gaze back down to the floor and swallowing dryly again. Judging by your actions, your fear...you knew deep down there was no happy ending to this love story, no way out of what fate had planned for him.

“She suspects,” V whispered in reply, hand squeezing his cane so tightly it dug into his palm, “But she also hopes. I cannot take that away from her, not after she has been through so much. Please,” He lifted his pleading eyes to Nero once more, voice still hushed as he begged, “Promise me that you will make sure she is safe.”

Nero looked at a loss for words, looking away and running a hand through his white hair. It messed it up immediately, sticking up in sporadic tufts. V knew Nero was a good person, one capable of heavy kindness and empathy. And he cared about you, that much was apparent. The poet knew that Nico and the other girls  loved you as well, but Nero was the only one V could ask personally for this. The one person he trusted.

“....” Nero let out a heavy sigh, turning his eyes back and meeting V’s gaze with an intensity that made him blink, “I’m not gonna make a promise for something we were going to do already. Y/N matters to me, Nico, Lady. So just fucking focus on yourself for once--she needs you, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let you go quietly.”

The relief that poured through V’s veins was so heady, he could have collapsed from it. He only nodded in response to Nero’s words, letting the devil hunter heft him up and start moving forward again. He should have known better than to assume anything less from the boy, especially considering all that had happened. There was still more to be said, but it could be continued as they walked.

“Dante is definitely gonna beat us there…” Nero muttered under his breath, grunting as he sustained V’s weight. Not that the poet was heavy, but...it was hard to lug around someone as lanky as he.

But V barely registered what the boy said, his thoughts drifting in and out on what he had been through in the past month. It had been a road filled with turmoil and regret, of his own guilt and sins riding on his back. Until you, he had nothing but this mission and the hopes of righting the wrongs “Vergil” committed. How strange that he would find the one thing he didn’t deserve, at the time he was most undeserving of it. Your love, your affections...After all he had done, you were a beacon of hope that he shouldn’t have even tasted. But he did, and grew addicted to it.

And in the end...you would be punished for a crime that wasn’t yours.

V would tell Nero about Vergil, the man who was Dante’s brother. About their conflict, and how Vergil became Urizen. But he didn’t need to know what V was, only that he needed to help him to his destination. The thought made V smile bitterly, lifting his gaze with a dark look in his eyes.

He started this mission on a bed of lies, and he would end it the same way. How fitting an end for someone like him, who would withhold the truth from even the woman he loved to preserve what he had.

**_(Your POV)_ **

The road ahead was...strangely lacking in demons.

Your Foresight was quiet the entire way, not flaring once despite just how close to Urizen this part of the tree was. And that’s what made no sense. Something about it made you think of the final boss rush in a video game, where generally the road to the big bad finale was rife with lower level lackeys. You had expected the final stretch to be crawling with demons, making the trek to the end more...difficult. But there was an eerie quietness to the tunnel, dark and dank with not a single trace of life.

Maybe other demons were afraid of Urizen? Which is why they stuck to the outer levels of the tree. But here, where the “God” was so close they steered clear. It made the journey a bit easier at least, but it was also filled with foreboding. Something...wasn’t sitting well. You couldn’t shake the feeling that at the end of the road things would collapse like flimsy pillars of salt. And when you reached a large hole in the ground, filled with a blue glow the feeling only increased. This had to be the end of the road, Urizen would be down there waiting for the fruit to ripen.

Something about the idea of seeing the demon made you...uneasy.

Even the sensation the portal provided was unnerving, making your skin prickle uncomfortably as you stared over the precipice. The dull glow illuminated you in hues of blue, reminding you of the Void in a strange way. When it came to that place, it was a balance between the inky blackness of nothingness and that hollow, endless neon of glowing whale oil. And this...was on that end of the spectrum. You put a hand to your chest, squeezing the fabric of your blouse as your heart beat louder and faster. Down there was the cause of all this madness, and you only hoped you could keep the strength to face it.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, lost in thought. But it was only broken by the sound of Nero and V coming up the tunnel, straining with the effort to keep the poet upright. No more time to waste, to hesitate. You turned, rushing to meet them and wrapping tendrils around their bodies--they had made it to you faster than anticipated. Nero looked troubled, meeting your gaze with a steady one of his own and gritting his teeth. It was made obvious by that tick in his jaw, looking so tight you were sure it hurt. What had gotten him so riled up?

You could ask him later, right now the goth looked way too weak for you to prolong his suffering more.

“End of the line,” You said softly, wrapping your arm around V’s waist and turning to look at the portal below, “I’m willing to bet Dante is already down there, so we should go as well.”

You thought you heard Nero sigh, looking down as well as he muttered, “Let’s go then,” He looked at V for a moment, adding in a begrudging tone, “We’ll continue our talk once we get down there.”

That made you blink, confusion leaking into your face as you looked between the two boys. Talk? What talk? It seemed like V was sharing information with everyone but you, which wasn’t sitting well in the slightest bit.

But V wasn’t in an explaining mood, it would seem. He simply nodded at Nero’s curt remark, letting out a shaky breath of, “Certainly.”

Christ, you wanted to refute that, but there was no choice in the matter. Nero started forward, forcing you to as well as the pit loomed ever closer. Just like that, things were forced back into that little crevice in your head that you saved for each and every worry that needed to be addressed. That ache on the back of your neck increased to a dull throbbing, making you wince in annoyance now that you couldn’t rub it. The only thing the group could do now was take that plunge into Urizen’s domain below, and face the conflict that had been looming over the city of Redgrave.

No more waiting, no more climbing the tree. All that remained now was to try your hardest to save your poet from a terrible fate, and to face things as they came to you. No matter what happened, you would fight and remain steadfast to keep what you had. And neither a single pain, nor obstacle would stop you--you were prepared for the Foresight to try and stop you at some point, but you would grit your teeth and bite on the agony if needed.

_This was what you were sent here for. You cannot hesitate._

So you didn’t.

You stepped off the ledge in unison with V and Nero, plunging into the glow and casting Feather Fall to stop the pain of decent. It was terribly bright for a moment, you squeezing your eyes shut as the wind rushed past. The feeling was akin to jumping into a pool of water, but without getting wet. Something felt very strange--the air went from smelling like rot and death to fresh air, the gusting around your forms cooling and feeling more dry than damp and murky. The sensation was far too odd for you to keep your eyes shut, opening them to see....not what you expected.

You were outside. At least...that’s what it looked like. Falling from a cracking sky, the only indication that this wasn’t really what it seemed. Blood was seeping through the shattered image above, fracturing it like glass and ruining whatever illusion the land was creating. You made out trees, the warped image of a dirt path leading to the mansion you saw before, only now it wasn’t the derelict estate in the rain. It was whole, standing proudly against the backdrop of the Qliphoth’s bubble of trickery in this area. Why was it showing here, of all places? It didn’t make any sense, especially not coupled with what you saw of Dante earlier, stabbing himself in the chest with a broken sword in the mansion foyer.

Speaking of Dante, when you landed on your feet you immediately caught sight of his form, fighting what you now knew to be the so-called “God” himself.

_This was the first time you laid your eyes on the demon known as Urizen._

The famous Devil Hunter was fighting him, clashing his blade on his weakened body and fighting with more vigor and anger than you had ever seen in him. Teeth grit in a snarl, staring with dark eyes at the creature standing before him as he landed blow after vicious blow. Urizen was a sight to behold, huge in size and made up of eyes, spikes, and teeth. A behemoth, exuding an aura of power that sent a shiver down your spine and the Void power swirling ominously in your stomach. You saw no sign of a fruit, no trace of it even existing  here at all, and that made you nervous. Had Urizen already devoured it? But if that was the case, how was Dante holding his own so well? It didn’t seem to make sense.

And it was about to get worse.

“They’re brothers?” Nero whispered next to you, jolting you out of your frozen state and making you look at him in shock, “Why are they fighting each other?”

 _Brothers…_? As in, Urizen and Dante? That made your body freeze again, staring at Nero with a mixture of confusion and disbelief. What on Earth did he mean, and worse--why had you never heard it before?  Those questions broke through the barrier of your mind like a dam, demanding answers and screaming louder and louder in tempo. But neither Nero nor V were looking at you, eyes fixed on the fight going on just mere yards away and unable to look away. But...you felt like V knew you were staring at him, his jaw tight and face half tilted away from you, like he was ashamed.

_But...why? Why couldn’t he tell you that?_

“To see one’s justice through, a man must fight for it,” V murmured, voice low and and breathy as he locked his jade gaze on Urizen’s form, watching as Dante reared back and stabbed the creature directly through a large eye on his chest, “Even if the one who stands before him is his kin.”

Urizen’s mouth opened in a choked gurgle of a scream, body twitching as Dante plunged the blade deeper and deeper. Something about the whole image felt...unnerving, wrong, especially knowing now that Urizen was apparently Dante’s brother. You felt your heart’s tempo increase, making your breathing speed up and palms start to get sweaty. Why had V not told you about this, especially if he seemed to know it already? Why had he held back so much from you?

“That’s ridiculous.” Nero stated in disgust, sounding vaguely...sad as he watched that same scene unfold that you did. To he who also had no family, seeing Dante and Urizen fight and try to kill each other had to be upsetting.

You stared at Urizen’s face as V spoke, watching the agony in his bright green eyes as the pupils turned into slits, “The brothers of blood disagree on the very reason of their existence,” His tone was absolute, turning into a low growl as Urizen fell to the Qliphoth floor, collapsing onto his back with a low rumble under your feet, “They must _fight_.”

The way he said it, _Brothers of blood_ , implied the words _not by choice._

Urizen had been defeated, just like that. Taken down by Dante alone, even after all you told him about needing to work with others. The demon hunter just seemed hyper-fixated on proving you wrong. You felt awed despite the twinge of annoyance, hearing Urizen inhale wheezing gusts of air as his limbs twitched in pain. How had Dante taken him down in such an easy manner? Surely this was not the same demon, the very one who defeated Dante before, and Nero as well. They had spent such an unbelievable amount of time talking him up, making him out to be some all-powerful God hellbent on destruction.

He didn’t seem so _God-like_ in that moment. He just looked like another broken, defeated demon. Lying in a pool of his own blood, unable to get up after the thorough beating Dante gave him. It was almost...pathetic. This creature is what was considered a god? He was barely able to raise his head now as Dante took a few steps back, flicking the blood off from his blade. Absorbing the Devil Sword Sparda must have given him that extra edge needed to finally defeat Urizen, once and for all. All that hype about the fruit, about this final battle, and it still made no ounce of difference when it came to defeating Dante…? That was if Urizen had eaten it, which you assumed had happened.

But...why was that the case?

“Dante…!” Nero yelled, starting forward again and tugging you and V along. Your feet stumbled, barely catching yourself from falling forward in your attempt to catch up with the demon hunter. Christ, Nero was eager, seeming just as awed by you at the battle’s outcome. Maybe Dante was as strong as everyone hyped him up to be?

As for V...he never took his eyes off of Urizen, his breath coming in shallow, short pants.

 _Was he...okay_? What was that expression he was wearing? That driven look, unwavering now that his goal was in sight. Something about it made you uneasy, shifting nervously at his side and registering how tense he felt.

Dante slung the huge  sword over his shoulder, wearing that trademark smirk as he took a few steps back to meet your rag-tag group, “You’re late,” He said casually, like you were planning on meeting at a party and he had gotten there first, “Just finishing up.”

Nero let out a slow breath, removing his arm from around V and moving closer to Dante. Leaving you to hold up the poet’s weakened form as well as you could. Much to your growing surprise, V gave your hand a squeeze, suddenly stroking his fingers around your chin and turning your head. You gasped, feeling his lips press firmly to yours in a kiss despite the other two men standing right there. V was never one for big, public displays of affection, so this felt odd. Instead of feeling comforted like you usually did by his affections, your unease grew in spades.

V was acting very strangely. Or maybe...you were paranoid?

But you were certain your paranoia wasn’t the case, especially when he released your hand, stepping away in the defeated demon’s direction. The way he did it, his posture, the fact that he didn’t look into your eyes once...There was a tightness in his jaw, a reluctance that made your chest hurt and heart pound against you ribs.

 _Something...wasn’t right_. You blinked, starting to follow just on that instinct alone but the poet held up a hand to stop you, the motion clearly telling you to stay put. Now that Urizen was defeated, did he know what was needed to get back what was taken? You didn’t understand his intentions.

“Stay back,” V murmured in warning, tone absolute as he lowered his hand again, “Don’t worry...I can manage from here.”

You paused, a troubled feeling settling over you at the way he spoke. He didn’t seem like he was managing well, especially not with how weak he was. It felt like...he was distancing you, moving forward alone despite all that you had worked towards together.

_And that felt wrong._

But before you could speak, the other two men talking cut you off.

“Is that really your brother?” Nero muttered to Dante, watching warily as well from his place at your side.

They were all looking at Urizen’s prone body, still wheezing and clinging to life despite getting stabbed through the chest. Your gaze darted uneasily between him and V, not liking the vibes you were getting at all. You knew how to read a room, so to speak, and V’s body language was...different from what you had experienced before.

“I’m afraid so.” Dante said simply...too simply. How could he sound so standoffish, especially considering the fact that his brother was a dying monstrosity? It made no sense, not with the limited facts you had. You knew your family hadn’t been kind to you, even if you couldn’t remember them. But to fight and kill your own flesh and blood…

_It felt wrong._

But your concentration was waning from him, focusing back on the poet as he started toward Urizen. Slowly, his gait hampered by his weakened body. How he was still managing to stay standing, you would never know. He must have been running on determination and that strange, driving force alone. More energy wouldn’t help all that much now, but the way he was walking made you fearful that he would collapse or fall.

Your first instinct was to help him, but when you went to extend your tendrils…

_They wouldn’t come out._

That couldn’t be right…? You were perplexed for a moment when the sight of the tendrils wrapping around V’s body never came, seconds ticking by without results. You froze in place, everything around you seeming to still as you concentrated again, trying to summon forth your ability to wrap around V’s form.

Nothing came, not even a single bit of energy. The chill swirling in your stomach wouldn’t move, wouldn’t bring forth anything no matter how much you strained. What the hell was going on? You had the energy to spare, the rune still on your belt and humming with all the power you needed, and yet...your tendrils never came.

Again and again you tried, confusion filling you even more when your desperate attempts still yielded nothing. What the fuck? What the fuck was happening?

_Why wasn’t your Void power activating?_

Panic started making your heart pound, the sensation curling in your gut like barbed wire as you started to hyperventilate. What was this feeling? Why wasn’t your power cooperating with you? It had never happened before, not in all the time you spent in the Void or otherwise. You lifted a hand, focusing harder and harder until it was a physical strain, but still nothing summoned from your palms. Even the gauntlet wouldn’t accept any Void power, the crystal’s usual humming eerily quiet.

_Something is wrong._

Nero was oblivious to your internal struggle, continuing on to Dante, “So he was behind all of this. Your own flesh and blood.”

“Right again.” Dante replied with a half-smirk, tilting his head toward Nero.

_Something is **wrong**_ **.**

You lifted your panicked gaze, facade slipping and exposing a hint of your trepidation as you watched V keep walking away from you, the wind sending his hair drifting and his shoulders hunched. He was just as oblivious as the others, he wouldn’t even turn around. For a moment, vulnerability claimed your entire body, a fear so prominent in made you want to cry.

This wasn’t right, _something wasn’t right._ All the confidence you had in your abilities, everything you believed in...they were falling to pieces. You needed V, you needed him and he was moving away from you. The urge to grab him, to pull him back and have him hold you again overtook each cell in your body, but when you tried to move…

Your limbs wouldn’t follow through.

_What’s happening to me?_

“In the last throes of defeat I see.” V’s voice was still audible above the wind, his movement more determined than you had ever seen from him. You couldn’t see his face, but by his tone you knew he was smiling. You wanted to yell for him, to thrash and cry, but you couldn’t move.

Why couldn’t you _move?_

Urizen spoke, his voice sending a jolt of unease up your spine, mingling with all rest of the terrible things you felt.

 _“You…”_ He growled, a sense of familiarity in that single word. He knew V, he recognized him. But this was more than that. He sounded...angry, disgusted, annoyed. That one word carried, bringing with it several implications you didn’t want to think about.

“V, get back!” Dante cautioned, stepping forward and readying his sword when Urizen’s large, mutated body started to twitch, “Things are about to get really messy.”

You wished one of them, any of them, would notice what was happening to you. But no one looked back at your face, not noticing the trembling breaths leaving your mouth, the terror in your eyes at the paralysis holding you back. The pain in your neck grew and grew until it felt like a vise was gripping you, but this was different.

You could feel it now, solidity forming and sending a chill down your entire body and a cry frozen in your throat. Someone was holding your neck, those were _fingers_ clamping down on you.

_I’m scared. V, please come back…!_

But he only held up his hand to pause Dante’s action, half turning his face to show that smirk you hadn’t seen in so long. The bemused, somewhat smug smile of a man who knew he had won. The ebony hair you loved was hiding his eyes from you, he wasn’t even looking in your direction.

“No, please...let me,” He said in between his panting, starting forward again, “I want to end this battle...with my own hands.”

For a moment, you found your voice. Air was trying to pull itself into your lungs, but not enough to carry all that you felt in that moment. Whatever was happening to you, whatever was going on...you didn’t want it, you wanted to leave this place with him.

_You wanted to go home._

But it felt like home wasn’t going to stay.

 _“V…!_ ” You whispered, tone raw and barely there at all. Your body felt as stiff as a board, like your feet were rooted in ice. It was all you had left, all you could do to try and stop whatever he was doing.

But he wouldn’t be stopped.

Your voice only made him pause a moment, his gait halted and hand squeezing the top of his cane. You were screaming in your mind, imaginary fists pounding on whatever walls were holding you back, struggling and struggling until you were sure you could struggle no more. Your exterior only betrayed the slightest hint of panic, eyes wide and burning with tears that refused to fall. You were not in control of yourself, you were in control of nothing. And that terrified you.

“...This will only take a moment, my dearest sparrow,” V murmured, half turning his face in your direction but not looking at you at all, “Please...wait for me.”

With that, he continued walking, shattering you inside and causing a wave of despair to crash over your thrashing mind. Nero glanced in your direction, confusion and concern in his expression as he narrowed his eyes on your face. Was he reading what was hidden? The panic, the despair, the fear? You wanted more than anything to reach out to him, to beg for help, but your own limbs refused to move.

You were forced to watch, a prisoner in your body as V climbed on top of Urizen’s form, slowly and awkwardly being as weak as he was. Your fingers twitched, trying desperately to summon the tendrils again to grab him, to run. The very thought of doing so made the Foresight in your chest flare out, ricocheting pain through every cell of your body like flame-coated razors. Bitterly cold, icy to the point of burning. It so resembled the pain you felt _that_ day, paying the price for your borrowed power. Like whale oil was trying to claw its way out your throat.

The cold grew on the back of your neck, those fingers so icy and firm on your skin. And with it came that chill all the way down your spine, sending tremors through you from your shoulders to your fingertips. You knew this sensation, _you knew this_. The feeling of the Void, that frigid awareness it brought in its wake more familiar to you than anything else. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t _breathe_. There was someone standing behind you, holding your neck in a death-grip and radiating a cold so fierce you could have gotten frostbite.

Deep down, you knew who it was, could feel it the moment he materialized, bringing with him the scent of whale oil and the whispers of his domain.

 _He_ was here. _He_ was what was holding you back, forcing you into submission.

Dante and Nero seemed completely oblivious to his presence, unable to sense the howl of the Void or the radiating cold he was exuding. Not when your Deity didn’t want them to. He was standing at your back, holding your neck in his firm fingers and just barely brushing you with his own form. _That_ was what you had been feeling this whole time, the entire journey down the Qliphoth. The Deity had been there, unseen and unnoticed, but with his digits clamped firmly down on your neck.

He had been there when you kissed V, when you hugged Lady and Nico. He had been there through the entire descent.

You were trembling now, deeply afraid of his actions and still watching V as he positioned himself over Urizen. This had never happened before, none of it had. The Deity had never touched you, been violent, forcing you to yield in a way like this. It was worse than anything you imagined, being forcibly pinned down by the hand of a God and having your will stripped away bit by bit.

Forced to watch V, you beloved, as he regarded Urizen’s battered body. You felt the Deity’s lips at your ear, his breath so cold it made shivers travel down your spine. When he spoke, it was both expected and jarring, making your teeth grind and a shudder ripple over your skin.

 _“What a wretched child you are”_ , He murmured, his voice both quiet and loud, pleasant and like nails scraping down a chalkboard, _“Trying even though you know this is not something with which you can interfere. When did you become so disobedient?”_

You couldn’t form a reply, not out loud and not in your head. No one else could hear him but you.

“Do not struggle,” V breathed in between pants, his voice still reaching you through the Void’s whispering, but sounding like he was under water, “For if you can’t even defeat me, then you’ve already lost.”

A whimper was born and died in the back of your throat, unable to even make a sound. Why was this happening? You had followed your instincts as always, just like with every other mission. So why were you being punished like this?

The Deity chuckled, the sound vibrating your lungs as your own breaths turned to frost.

 _“You knew the outcome all along, deep down in your subconscious. Yet you never asked,”_ He mused, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the back of your neck, “ _You would have rather lived in ignorance, because you knew what would happen. And you couldn’t bear it.”_

 _Please._ You had just wanted to be happy, you had just wanted to experience love, joy, family. The desire had been like a knife to the chest--you had wanted it so badly you could taste it. Those things that had never been allowed, what you had sold your soul to obtain. After all these years of helping your quest, encouraging your desires, aiding every mission like a father over your shoulder...why was he doing this to you now, clamping down on your will until you threatened to snap like a twig?

 _“I...will...not...lose…”_ Urizen rasped slowly, mighty chest rising and falling with heaving gasps. His entire form twitched, still struggling for strength even now, even in defeat, _“Not to dante...I need power...More power…!”_

That was what it was all about, wasn’t it? His search for power, the imbalance he caused in dimensions. So why did this feel so wrong, why had everything up until this point made no sense? You had been sent here to fix what he wrought, yet did nothing to contribute to it. The realization came hard and heavy, slamming into you like a truck--had the Deity not been holding you up, your knees would have buckled.

_At the end of the day, nothing you had done would have brought forth this outcome._

Dante would have absorbed the Devil Sword Sparda, would have come here, would have defeated Urizen. He did it without you, without anyone. So...why? Why were you even there at all? The Deity would have known, he knew all that was written in obsidian. Omniscient, able to touch all outcomes and weave fate. This would have been foreseen, the problem righting itself and balance being restored.

Yet you had been sent there. You had fallen in love with V.

_Aiding him was all you had done._

The poet in question fell to one knee, bracing himself with that silver cane as he replied bitterly to Urizen, “I know...We are one and the same, you and I.”

His tone was so low, but you still heard it. You wanted him back, wanted to go back to how things were. Each night spent with him was a blessing and a curse, the memories bubbling up and choking you more than the Deity’s grip. V’s back was to you, but you knew he was smiling as he continued talking to Urizen.

“But you’ve lost me...and I’ve lost you.”

His words held so much weight, so much meaning. That sense of foreboding jolted down your body, stirring up the fears, the lies, all the hesitations. It echoed in your skull, dredging up what V had once spoken to you before, about Urizen “ _taking something from him_ ”. Something he had to return to live.

_We are one and the same, you and I._

It became glaringly obvious what V had lost. And the Deity was right...deep down, you knew. But you didn’t want to confront it.

_I have been a fool._

“Yet we are connected...by that one _feeling._ ” V whispered, tone darker than you had ever heard it. The screaming in your head grew louder and louder, mingling with the Void’s chorus until it was all you could feel.

Dante and Nero were watching the same thing you were, unable to notice what was happening in your head but sensing exactly what you felt. They knew something was wrong, they knew as soon as he began speaking. But now, one of them had to be quick enough to act on it.

 _Stop him!_ You mentally screamed, chest rising and falling rapidly and shoulders trembling with the strain, _Please! Please, please! Somebody, anybody…!_

You would sacrifice anything to the Deity if needed. Anything. You would beg and plead and suffer a million years if it meant you could save V’s life while also sparing him from what he was about to do. Whatever it would take. _  
_

The Deity released a low hum, sensing exactly what you were thinking and releasing a cloud of frost by your ear.

 _“Would you do it? Would you allow yourself to snap in two just so I can allow him the joy of living without succumbing to his fate?”_ That resulted in a cold laugh, one that vibrated against your ears like the ringing of a bell.

You would do it. You would take the punishment--but he wasn’t going to let you. After all, this wasn’t about what you wanted anymore. _  
_

 _“I wonder how much more you can take, my dearest child,_ ” He whispered, “ _Before you truly break?”_

You didn’t want to this, you didn’t want to break. You wanted to look away, to fall to the ground and cry, to go back in time to take V away from all of this. It wasn’t fair. _It wasn’t fair._

 _“ And that...is why I find you so fascinating._ ” The Deity chuckled, the moments ticking by so slowly you were certain he had slowed down time. Forcing you to memorize every detail, the tattoos on V’s back, the way his shoulders moved, his hair drifting on the breeze. Every part of him you had touched, had come to adore. This was a punishment. This was a punishment.

_Please...no more._

_“I think you have forgotten your place. Where you come from, what I have given you.”_

_Was it really so wrong to want happiness? To try and find solace in others?_

_“What a reminder this will bring. This pain you feel, this ache...it will only serve to make you feel more alive.”_

_No more reminders, not like this._

You felt your eyes burning, turning black as whale oil tracked down your cheeks. None of the men saw, not Dante, Nero, or V. They didn’t see the glowing blue liquid drip from your chin, pattering onto your blouse and absorbing into the material. You could feel it like bile, churning in your stomach like the sea in a storm. And with it came every fear realized, crashing down on the shore of your mind and threatening to drown you.

_“This pain is a reminder that you are alive.”_

_“While thy branches mix with mine,_ ” V breathed, raising his cane with both hands above his head, ready to stab down on the same place Dante had moments earlier, “ _And our roots together join…!_ ”

_No._

You saw Dante jolt forward in your peripheral view, setting into a dead sprint in V’s direction. He had realized what you had, but only too late. He wasn’t fast enough, there was no way to stop V now.

_Please, don’t leave me._

The distance between Dante and Urizen was far too great, the math already done in your head before the devil hunter had taken two steps. He was too late. You all were.

_I don’t want to be alone again._

You watched, eyes wide and unblinking as V brought the cane slamming down into Urizen’s chest, a resounding crack echoing through the air as your eyes got one final, gut-wrenching look at your poet’s form. It was the only look you would ever get again. Every detail seemed hyper focused, down to the cracks lining his skin, the way his muscles bunched with the motion of thrusting down the cane, the light glinting off his silver ring. Your mind would never forget it.

_It’s not fair._

A beam of energy shot out from Urizen’s form, blinding you and sending a shock-wave out in all directions. The moment it did, you felt the rune behind you shatter, and the hand on your neck disappear. The Deity was gone, having done his part in your undoing and leaving just as quick. With him he took the cold, your limbs now able to move and body falling to the ground like a ragdoll. You could scarcely remember a feeling like this, not in all the years of your existence, not in any of your deaths or rebirths. Everything he had held back burst forth, a silent scream of denial wrecking your throat and Void power bursting inside.

Agony, so much agony. This wasn’t happening, not like this, not after everything you had done. You had tried so hard, _you had worked so fucking hard._

The shock-wave rolled over the landscape, slamming into whatever it could touch. More pain, lost within all the other things you felt. It sent Dante, Nero, and yourself flying back, the two of them landing nimbly while you slid across the floor. You couldn’t see for a moment, the impact rattling your skull and making you bite your tongue. To be blind on top of everything else for even those few seconds...

_Please don’t make me look away from him._

_I know if I do, I’ll never see him again._

But the energy was too much. The taste of blood mixed with that of the whale oil from you biting down so hard, bitter and coppery, the desire to retch settling at the back of your throat. You vaguely registered Nero’s hand on your back, holding you steady as the ringing in your ears began to subside. When had the boy gotten this close to you, had the blast sent you both in the same direction? He was next to you now, but you could tell he wasn’t focusing on you.

Your gaze lifted, seeing exactly what had Nero so transfixed.

Where V and Urizen once were stood a man, his back to you and silvery-white hair illuminated by the dying light of the Qliphoth’s illusion. The landscape was collapsing around him like shattered panes of glass, the shards slipping down past his prone form and falling into nothingness. The energy he carried made your shoulders tremble, all the pieces slipping into place like a broken, heart-wrenching puzzle.

A numbness filled you, the panic, confusion, fear, and desperation over-flowing as you stared at the unfamiliar person. He was wearing a dark coat, tall and broad shouldered. And at his side was a long sword, held firmly in his grasp--the Yamato, you were willing to guess. The same sword he had taken from Nero, ripping off his arm to acquire. You could hardly process what was going on, nor how to deal with all of it.

All you knew, all you saw, was that V was no longer there. He was gone, and in his place was this man, illuminated by the dying glow of the energy burst at his feet.

_V is gone. He is gone._

“What is this?” Nero growled at your side, his voice filled with every terrible, shocked emotion bottled up inside you.

You couldn’t rip your eyes away from the man, whale oil still dripping down your cheeks as each part of you burned, so cold you were certain there was frostbite on your skin now. The emotions were rising like a tidal wave, increasing in intensity as the newcomer turned, slowly leveling his gaze over the three of you. So sharp, grayish-blue eyes like daggers on an unfamiliar, unyielding face.

You didn’t know this man, he was a stranger. Disdain seemed to crackle from him, ever heightened by the way he furrowed his brow, his hair pushed back from his forehead. He was standing in the place of someone who mattered so much to you, someone who had disappeared without a trace. All that remained of him was that leather bound book, sitting abandoned on the Qliphoth floor as the only reminder that V existed at all.

_V is gone._

You had reached a limit. You could take no more, sobs threatening to bubble up from your throat and sharp, shaking gasps leaving your chest. After all that you had done, all the lies you stomached, V was no longer here. It was burning you alive, far more agonizing than anything you had felt before. This man was not V, not with those cold eyes, rigid posture, and sharp scowl. There was no trace of your poet left but that damned book, not even the forms of Griffon, Shadow, or Nightmare remained.

_And in your ignorance, you ended up aiding in the destruction of all that you desired._

There was nothing left now but the pain, that gut-wrenching agony of losing the one dearest to you. It was too much, it was not enough. The glass that was the culmination of your being started to crack, the water hovering on the rim starting to dribble over.

As you began to crumble inside, you heard Dante panting in rage-- He uttered in a growling tone one single, damning name.

_“Vergil.”_


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's keep the pain train rolling, shall we?

##  ****

_Chapter 25_

Numbness filled your entire being.

How could you even begin to process it, the feeling crawling up your spine? Staring at this man... Vergil, the culmination of every fear you held, the manifestation of your failure. He stood straight and poised, eyes sharp and brow furrowed in a stern, albeit dazed expression. _Processing._ You understood now, all of V’s reservations. His lies, his hidden truths, the hesitations he showed. Everything was falling into place, the pieces fitting together in a chain of despair and lies. It made you feel numb, eyes wide and staring at this person, standing in place of the one you lost.

Everything made sense now. Dante’s comment about the Yamato separating man from devil, V saying Urizen “took” something important from him, something he couldn’t live without. His desire to reach the demon, that drive to move forward without stop. It was bitterly obvious now, this truth you so desperately didn’t want to see. Each new thought made your teeth grind, the pain growing and growing inside until you felt near bursting, breath shaking and nails digging into your palms. You were a fool, an ignorant fool. And you hated yourself for it.

V and Urizen...they were pieces of one whole, different being.

_Dante’s brother._

_V was a piece of Dante’s brother._

The devil hunter in question was furious, staring at Vergil in shock and anger. Each breath sounded like it was sucked through his teeth, eyes sharp and jaw clenched. He looked very displeased to see his brother, that was for certain, more so than you had ever seen him. That realization only made your grief grow, clawing its way up your throat and shredding everything in its wake. The man you loved, trusted, and adored...he was gone, and in his place was a man who caused the death of so many human lives. Nothing you knew made sense anymore, none of it did. You thought you knew V, knew his intentions and his feelings. But now...you knew nothing.

Because he was part of a bigger picture, a different person.

But it didn’t stop any of it, any of the pain, the mourning, the agony. All of this had happened, things crumbling like wet paper and you still were _so in love with the poet_. That alone was crushing and confusing, making your head spin in circles trying to figure it all out. _You loved him,_ you loved V so much that it was unbearable now. 

_Everything was unbearable now._

You were volatile, on the edge of collapse and there was nothing you could do about it but sit, shaking softly and struggling to pull yourself together. Nothing worked, _nothing would work_. No amount of self composure, breathing, or reasoning would remove the growing turmoil inside your body.

_This is agony._

Nero looked as shocked confused as you felt, looking at the newcomer with wide eyes and chest rising in quick breaths. You all watched as Vergil turned, walking over to where V’s book lay on the Qliphoth floor, now just a forgotten reminder of who had it before. You jolted, hands trembling when he bent down, picking it up with careful fingers. You didn’t want him to touch it, _he shouldn’t be touching it._ That book belonged in V’s hands, his voice murmuring the gentle lines of William Blake’s poetry. You could feel it now, creeping into the tangled mess of emotion in your mind, that one thing you hadn’t felt so potently in a long...long time.

Fury.

You felt it worming its way into your skull, only slightly. The faintest hints of rage, carried on a cold breeze and mingling with the other terrible things inside, becoming acquainted. How could this have happened, how could V do this to you? Was...any of it really? The love, the affections, his kind words...or was it all just a tool to keep moving forward, your energy his only means of getting back to Urizen?

You didn’t want to doubt, not like this. Not now, when things were bad enough. But it existed there, in your mind, wrapping around you like a forceful embrace. To be used and abused for so long, and now discovering the person you loved may have done the same...it was shattering, something you didn’t want to accept. It couldn’t be true, could it? You thought you knew that wasn’t the case, but what the hell did you know anymore. All this situation proved was that you knew nothing.

Dante was the first to speak into the silence stretching in the air, finding his voice much easier than you. Hell, there was nothing in your mind you could formulate into a sentence at that moment that made sense. The devil hunter was on a mission, one that was much clearer than yours now, and his tone definitely showed it. Filled with a low warning, growing in intensity as he regarded the tall, surly-looking male before him.

“Ya got some pretty big cojones for comin’ back,” He growled, eyes narrowing a second before he startled sprinting at his brother, voice growing louder as he raised his sword for an attack, “Just don’t know when to give up, _do ya?_!”

You felt yourself tense up, not sure how the other male would respond to such a head on assault from Dante. It was far too sloppy, even for him. His mind wasn’t in the right place, not with everything going on.

Vergil was not fazed.

You watched, that hollow ache in your chest growing when Vergil twitched, easily blocking the hit with a flick of his Yamato. He flipped it around in a precise movement, sending the sword’s sheath hard into Dante’s stomach. It happened so fast, almost elegant in his movements. Even when Dante took the object and hurled it right back. It slid onto the sword once more, pushing Vergil back with a low grunt and a dark glare. What a look he wore, annoyance now tracing the lines of his brow and mouth, those eyes glinting in disdain. You couldn’t understand it, how V came from this person, or why.

_Nothing made sense._

Dante fell back, looking frustrated and panting heavily as he shook off the blow. You saw him lock gazes with Nero, a snarl passing over his lips as he started forward again.

“Get out of my way, Nero!” He shouted, despite the fact that Nero wasn’t making any movements to stop him.

But the boy stepped back, closer to your side as he watched everything unfold in absolute perplexion. You couldn’t blame him, especially considering you didn’t have the faintest idea of how to process anything you were feeling. How were you supposed to stand, to feel, to recover? Your throat felt raw and dry, body cold and on the verge of shivering. You still weren’t over what happened, what your Deity had done to you. It was a breach of your trust, one that was invasive and wrong and...so many things, too many things to pick apart. It left you feeling violated, betrayed--the one person who had guided you for so long just forcibly held you down and made you watch your world collapse. _What were you supposed to do?_

Nero glanced down at you, seeing the absolute vulnerability in your expression without fail this time. You felt him wrap an arm around your waist, making you jolt a little bit in surprise as you finally gazed up at him. He looked concerned for you, guilt and sadness in his expression as he took in all the grief in yours. There was no doubt Nero knew exactly what you were feeling in that moment, and he didn’t know what to do.

He pulled you to your feet, helping to keep you steady as the men continued their little spat. You flickered your eyes back to them, watching in shock as Vergil practically teleported into Dante’s next attack, the loud clang of metal on metal echoing in the room. You took another step back, stumbling a bit but held up by Nero’s arm. What the hell were they doing? What did this little fight solve? They were in a test of strengths now, sword against sword and creating sparks in their wake. Dante was anger, hot and stubborn whereas Vergil was cold, calm and poised. Polar opposites, like a cat and a dog.

It shocked you when Vergil spoke, his voice sending a jolt of trepidation down your body where it settled in your stomach, making you sick. That was not the voice of V, not even close. His tone, honeyed and warm like a caress. And Vergil’s…

Cold, higher in pitch and completely incomparable.

“Defeating you like this...has no meaning.” He stated, lips curling into something akin to a smile and eyes glinting with the light from their swords.

But Dante wasn’t going to let up. He was straining, small grunts leaving his lips and shoulder muscles twitching in his attempt to push back against his brother’s advance.

“Come on Vergil,” He rumbled, tone low and filled with stubborn determination, “Let’s do this!”

But...why? Why did they need to fight? You didn’t understand. It was like the air around them was charged, two energies clashing and making your hair stand on end. You didn’t like the sensation, especially not the one Vergil brought with him.

_Please. I just want V back._

_I don’t understand. I don’t understand anything._

“Heal your wounds, Dante. Get strong,” Vergil replied to his brother’s commands, looking far more calm and steady. Devoid of an emotion but smug, cold satisfaction, “After that, we’ll settle the matter.”

He whipped the sheath of the Yamato around, knocking Dante’s legs out from under him as he brought the sword itself down. Steel clanged against each other, sending up another cloud of sparks. Dante blocked the attack, the force sending him sprawling back into an ungraceful slide. Frustration made its home in the demon hunter’s expression, the man staring incredulously at his brother like what he said was the opposite of what he expected. You didn’t know what bad blood the two shared, or why. Years of conflict had to lead to this moment, bitterness running deep in their veins and harsh words seeming to be the only thing they could spout.

You lifted your gaze, watching as Vergil left his fighting stance. He lifted his sword, turning his back on the three to slash an x into the air--glowing indigo lines formed where he did, leaking an ethereal smoke. What in the world was he doing? Your shoulders started trembling again, the Void power setting into a dangerous, warning swirl with how your emotions were beating against the walls of your head. This man hadn’t once looked into your eyes, acknowledged you, or showed any sign of noticing you there at all. There was so much you wanted to say, to ask, but your body seemed locked in that location, frozen by indecision.

_V is a part of this man, he who is nothing like the man you love._

_Please, I’m so lost. I don’t know what to do._

You watched as the lines he cut opened, revealing a dark, ominous purple of a swirling portal. It clicked with you immediately that he was intending to make his leave, that sword serving as a means to move between spaces--there was a lot that the Yamato could do that you didn’t understand. Lips parted, you tried to say something, whatever would ease the ache even a little bit. But your tongue was practically frozen to the roof of your mouth. Did you have any right to say anything, to ask anything? So much of this felt wrong, like it wasn’t real.

Vergil took a single step toward the portal he created, pausing briefly to turn his head. You saw his lips part, face shifting from the smug, coldness to something much more calm. What was he doing? He looked over his shoulder at the boy next to you, his expression calm and neutral.

“Thank you, Nero.” He stated simply, meeting Nero’s confused gaze for a brief moment.

Before his eyes shifted ever so slightly to you.

You didn’t know what to expect--maybe recognition, or guilt, or some sign of your poet being inside this stranger you didn’t know. You couldn't imagine what he would see in your face, maybe vulnerability, hurt, and despair. But...that didn’t matter, and you received no such thing from this man. His expression didn’t shift, showing no sign of anything as his grayish-blue perception graced your face. And that was all he spared...a single passing glance, no words, no explanations... _nothing._ He turned in the next instant, not acknowledging you in any other way as he took another step into the portal, intending to enter it and be on his merry way.

The emotions inside you broke, coiling tighter and tighter until they snapped like a cheap rubber band.

It was all too much. It overwhelmed you, every barrier shattering under the weight of your pain, despair, and anger. So much anger. You couldn’t control your body, and you could scarcely care.

_You don’t get to do that to me._

_You don’t get to just come into people’s lives and hurt them._

_You don’t get to walk away.  
_

Thousands of tendrils snapped out of your form in an instant, sending Nero sprawling back as your launched forward, so fast a crack whipped out into the air. Your Void power raged inside, spiking out in all directions with your volatile emotions and mixing with the fierce, roaring agony of your Foresight. _Stop Stop Stop!_ Your ability was screaming at you, pounding against you in waves that told you this action was by far the worst you could do, something that would have negative effects. But you didn’t care. _You couldn’t care._ This pain was of little consequence, your mind in a frenzy far too great to stop yourself anymore.

You would take this pain, and turn it into power.

None of the three men expected your attack. Vergil only turned at the sound you released, barely managing to lift his katana in enough time to block himself.

You slammed into him, tendrils lashing out in all directions like uncontrollable whips as you pressed against the sheath of the sword, pinning Vergil to the ground. The impact was so hard it cracked the floor beneath him, a grunt escaping his lips. Had it been a normal human, you could have broken his back doing that. But Vergil was no garden variety, every day human being. The portal behind him was mere inches away, the swirling, ominous purple illuminating you both in this struggle, locked in your own contest of strength.

He had the good graces to look surprised--he was gritting his teeth, shocked emotions flashing briefly in his eyes before being replaced by cold disdain. You were panting, eyes black and hair raising with the crackling, burning energy flickering over your skin. No more, no more holding back, no more biting your tongue. You had enough of these games, of the lies, of the pain. It wasn’t fair. _It wasn’t fucking fair._ You tried so hard, sacrificed so much only to be the only left aching in the end.

_I gave everything only to be treated like nothing again._

The thought alone made your power spike, nausea rising in your stomach and leaving you with the taste of whale oil in your mouth. You heard Dante and Nero gasp, watching as your power display grew, tendrils turning an inky black and slamming into every available surface they could find. You were out of control, _you couldn't stop. Not anymore._

“Y/N!” Dante yelled, trying to run at you but fifty tendrils whipped out, knocking against his sword and sending him flying back. You didn’t even look at him, eyes locked on Vergil’s as you gripped the Yamato’s sheath, the claws of your gauntlet digging in. Each breath was like ice, the cold chilling you all the way to your fingertips. Where the black, sharp claws cut in dark crystal started to form, slowly spreading over the sheath.

_I don’t care. I don’t care I don’t care._

_I cared too much._

_“You…!_ ” Your voice was a raw hiss, vibrating with your power as tendril after tendril slammed into his sheath, “ _You don’t just get to do that…!”_

Vergil let out a low grunt, glaring hard at you and pressing the heel of his boot against your stomach, trying to peel you off. If he thought that measly pain would stop you, he was gravely mistaken.

You don’t get to just make me love you then take everything.

 _“Foolishness._ ” Vergil ground out from between his teeth, not breaking his gaze with you and shoving the Katana back hard. More tendrils slammed down, holding you in place and refusing to budge. More and more, slamming into the ground, walls, ceiling. It was so loud, everything was so loud and chaotic but you couldn’t muster an ounce of caring. It hurt, everything hurt so much.

_You hurt me._

The howl of the Void started to grow around you, filling this room of the Qliphoth until you felt like you were back in the Void. For every movement you made, the pain only grew in spades. It grew and grew until you felt like you were on fire, choking back a hoarse scream of agony and swallowing it whole. You refused to yield, not now. Not when everything was so raw, painful.

 _“You don’t get to just hurt people and walk away like its nothing…_!” You snarled in his face, hands trembling as you pushed and pushed your power to the limit. You were starting to exert, finally after all this time. No longer replying on the rune to save you, _“Where is he?! Where is V?!_ ”

_You are not him. There is no way someone like him can be inside someone like you._

_There must be a mistake, or a lie._

Vergil narrowed his eyes at your words, lips curling in a snarl of disdain. You thought you saw something flicker in his eyes, taking in your trembling form above him, but it was gone too fast to identify it.

Your power was growing out of control, the strain of using so much energy making black veins appear under your skin. You shuddered, fighting the urge to retch as more whale oil bubbled into your throat.

_I won’t stop. I won’t. I don’t care anymore._

“If you were wise, you would back down now,” Vergil hissed, fingers gripping the sheath of his sword so hard you heard the material groan under the strain, “This doesn’t concern you.”

His words made you suck in a breath, blood boiling further and sharp breaths leaving your parted lips. He didn’t get to just do that, to disregard everything you had done and all that you felt. Was there no hint of V in this man? No memory of you, of what you shared? The thought of every trace of your poet being lost made you want to scream, to destroy more, to fight until you were a husk on the ground with no power left. You were crumbling, unable to hold anything back and unable to stop.

The Void energy snapped out from your body, creating fissures along the ground where rats began to materialize around you. It was an ability you knew was available, but you never used it. Not once. Even now, it wasn’t happening by choice--you couldn’t control yourself, the energy wildly lashing out in whatever way it could. You heard Dante and Nero let out noises of shock and alarm, unable to make heads or tails of what was happening around you.

_You were coming undone._

_“Why?”_ You whispered to the man beneath you, eyes filled with every ounce of pain you felt as you stared at his cold face, _“Just tell me why…!”_

_Just tell me something._

_Anything._

But Vergil had no explanations to give you. He sucked in a breath, releasing it in a sharp huff and narrowing his eyes on your face. A low growl rumbled in his chest, filled with warning as he still refused to break contact with your eyes. Somehow...that was even worse. To have no guilt, no shame, no remorse. To have nothing.

But something was there, a knowing look in those icy orbs as he took in your condition. You couldn’t imagine what you looked like.

“Stand down _now_.” He commanded, tone still a low growl as he pressed back harder and harder. He tilted his head, leaning his face closer to yours as the sheath pressed against your heaving chest. You didn’t quite know what you expected him to say. Maybe more commands for you to back off, something condescending or rude. But what came out of his mouth hit you like a blow to the chest.

“You know as well as I that you don’t have the energy to take me… _Sparrow._ ”

Your eyes flew open in shock, every part of you coming to a startling halt at that nickname uttered on his lips. Vulnerability hit you like a freight train, all concentration lost and brain scrambling in pain and grief. _No no no._..he didn’t get to just do that, to say that. _He didn’t get to just fucking do that...!  
_

_He knew._

_He knew what V called you._

Your poet had uttered that name, spoken in soft, adoring tones and hushed lips. While making love, while sharing a kiss and while baring his soul to you. Hearing Vergil say it to you now…

_It broke you._

The male took advantage of your vulnerability, snapping the katana up and sending you flying back. You choked on your yelp of pain, tendrils too unstable to break your fall or help you. They disappeared the instant your rage broke, turning into black crystal and snapping off from your velocity. It hurt, it hurt so much it was unbearable--both from your emotional distress and the backlash of the Void. 

Exerting yourself so much and  fighting against the Foresight to that extend had wrecked your body. The nausea was unbearable, limbs barely able to move and breaths feeling like ice whenever you wheezed in. When was the last time you had exerted like this, to a point so terrible you felt on the verge of collapse?

Nero leapt to your aid, cushioning your fall and catching you so there was no impact. He skidded, a huff of air leaving his chest as he came to a halt, holding your limp form. The instant you were no longer in motion, you stopped being able to hold back the bile. You doubled over, retching up whale oil that splattered onto the ground near your feet. Disgusting, unbearably so. The neon blue glow was a stark contrast on the dark, bloody red of the Qliphoth flesh. You breathed shakily, slumping in Nero’s grasp and pressing a hand to your mouth. It was too much, it was too much to handle anymore.

Nero was panicking, that much you could tell. He held you up entirely, metal arm firm around your waist and the other at your shoulders.

“Y/N…!” He gasped, settling on one knee to hold you up, “You need to stop…! Your body can’t take much more of this…!”

_You didn’t care. You couldn’t._

You wearily lifted your gaze, just in enough time to see Vergil slip the Yamato back into the sheath. He looked no worse for wear, body showing no sign of being hurt by your tendrils. You started to tremble again, the sensations heightened by the name he dared to call you, one that was so unbelievably painful. How dare he do that, how dare he take something that mattered so much and fling it at you in disdain? Had Nero not been holding you back, you would have bolted at him again, hands shaking with the desire of it.

He didn’t say anything more. He merely turned, clicking his tongue once before finally stepping into the portal he had formed. _Leaving._ Heaving gasps left you, teeth clenching as you watched the purple swallow him, the space closing as soon as he was out of sight and leaving no trace of the man who hurt you so terribly. You realized a bit belatedly that the book V owned was now gone--Vergil had taken it with him. Something about that only served to make things worse, the anger pounding harder and louder on your skull. A skull that was already throbbing in pain.

_I can’t take this anymore._

Nero was panting behind you, body forcing you to turn so he could look at you now that Vergil was gone. You couldn’t meet his gaze, unable to lift your head at all now that the fight was draining, leaving numbness again. What were you supposed to do, to feel? Two people in your life that you trusted, that you thought cared about you had betrayed you within the same time span of each other. Who could you trust now?

_You can’t think like that. You can’t._

_You can’t let them take more._

“Are you alright?” Nero asked quietly, brow furrowed with concern as he put his hands on your shoulders. You could even feel Dante looking at you, carefully walking over from where he stood.

You were far from okay, vulnerability playing on the edges of your mind and mingling with the despair and heartbreak. But no amount of wording or explaining would convey that.

“...No,” You whispered, wiping the whale oil from your mouth with the back of your hand. Your voice sounded unfamiliar even to you, tired and broken as you continued quietly, “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Nero’s hands squeezed you, offering comfort in any way he could. Honestly what could he say? Nothing could make up for what had happened, and no words would soothe the turmoil inside.

Still, he spoke, tone softer and more regretful than you had ever heard it, “ God damn it...I’m sorry, kid. We’ll figure shit out, we’ll…” He trailed off, struggling to find the words to articulate his thoughts. You were grateful he was at least trying, at the moment he was all you had in way of comfort. You missed V, the betrayal and hurt so heavy you felt like drowning. And worse...you missed Griffon, Shadow, and Nightmare. What had happened to them, where had they gone? Losing them on top of losing V was...devastating.

You wanted them back so bad you could cry.

Dante said nothing to you, but his eyes were on your face. You could feel it. You didn’t want to know what the devil hunter thought of you, how this affected him too. You had feelings for V, which was apparently a part of his brother, the very same brother whose other half tried to kill everyone more than once. You knew nothing of the circumstances between the two, but judging by his previous words Vergil had been less than kind to him in the past. Why beat around the bush? You were passionate with V, devoted, deeply in love with him. And now none of him remained.

“You both should get out of here,” Dante sighed, turning away and making both you and Nero look up to see him start walking away, “Get back to the van, I’ll handle things from here.”

Nero did not like that one bit, and neither than you.

He stood, moving toward Dante faster than you could will your legs to move. Especially with how weak you were.

“Wait just a second…!” He snapped, annoyance peppering his tone as he jogged to catch up with Dante, “If that’s your brother, what happened to V?!”

He still didn’t realize yet, still hadn’t connected the dots. You felt like you were about to collapse, standing on wobbly legs and gagging at the feeling of whale oil still lingering in your throat. Disgusting, you felt absolutely trashed. Hearing Nero just say V’s name made your eyes squeeze shut, trying to hold back another rippling wave of pain. You didn’t want to hear this anymore, there was no desire in you to talk or prattle on about what happened. You were guessing Vergil went back to the top of the tree, so that’s where you intended to go.

You wouldn’t be stopped.

The Foresight in your stomach flared out again at the thought, making your teeth grind and a hand snake down to hold your abdomen. Agonizing, like being stabbed over and over from the inside. It was warning you to back off, to mind your own business. But you were far past that now.

 _Return home._ The whispers of the Void were lingering in your ears, quiet but firm in their requests, _Return to us. He demands it._

You couldn’t give a fresh fuck about what “He” demanded anymore.

“He returned,” Dante replied to Nero, making your gaze lift to tiredly stare at them both, “To himself.”

Nero squinted at the older man in confusion, eyes darting between Dane and where Vergil once stood. He still didn’t know, he didn’t understand exactly what was going on...and maybe that was for the best.

“Go home Nero,” Dante continued, walking away with a low sigh under his breath and a heaviness to his step. Limping, the fight with Vergil taking a lot of of him, “This doesn’t concern you.”

Bad choice of words, the worst ones in fact.

Nero went on the defensive in an instant, an incredulous look in his eyes as he started after Dante again, “Like hell…! I lost my right arm because of him…!”

You struggled to keep up with them, measuring your steps and pressing the heel of of your palm to your temple. God, your head was throbbing, on the verge of dizziness. You wished they would slow down.

“This is not your fight. I need to stop him, and that’s all that matters.” Dante replied simply, not turning or stopping in the slightest.

This conversation was going nowhere.

Nero only sounded more angry, his tone taking on a bitter, mocking edge as he snarls, “I’m not gonna let you have all the fun, Dante…!”

Now that got the devil hunters attention, making him turn on his heel and that calm air leaving him in an instant. Seeing him angry was jarring, a far cry from his usual lazy, bemused demeanor. You felt something begin to snap, the air growing thick with energy again. You paused when they did, sucking in a breath at the look on Dante’s face. Jaw clenched, eyes sharp and frustrated. You were a few feet away from them, trying to gather yourself and find the strength to move and go after his brother. Would they noticed if you just walked away?

You contemplated it.

“You don’t get it!” Dante snapped, leveling his sword on the ground and glaring at Nero’s face in absolute exasperation.

Nero scoffed, tone growing more and more bitter than before as he replied, “Lemme guess, I’m dead weight? You can shove that--”

“That’s not it, Nero!” Dante’s voice was growing louder, both of them were.

This argument was going somewhere, it was about to go off like a bomb, and you didn’t have the patience for it.

 _“What is it then?!_ ” Nero yelled back, more forcefully than you had ever heard him, hands balled up into fists.

_“He’s your father…!”_

_...Excuse me?_

That made your thoughts halt completely in their tracks, eyes going wide and all the air halting in your lungs. If what you were feeling before was bad, this revelation was like an extra kick to the face, far more shocking than you could image it to be. Vergil... _Vergil was his father?_ Nero’s father? Your stomach started doing flips, hands shaking and breaths starting to come short and fast. An eerie silence took up space in the air, making the hairs on the back of your neck prickle as you tilted your head, looking at Nero’s form once the realization really started settling in. This was...too much, even for you. Shocking, undeniably so.

But you couldn’t imagine what it would do to Nero.

To grow up without family, without a mother and father, only to find out now that it existed...you could practically feel his shock, the boy taking a step back away from Dante. Your need to comfort others kicked in, overriding your own shock, grief and pain for a moment as you stared worriedly at your friend. This was too much, he didn’t deserve to learn like this. His own father had ripped off his fucking arm? To be put through all that pain, forced to suffer and adapt how he did only to find out his own flesh and blood committed the atrocity?

This was why Dante was so reluctant to include Nero in anything, wasn’t it?

 _“...What?!_ ” Nero hissed, breath coming shakily now as he stared at Dante’s face. You couldn’t see his expression, but you could imagine how he must have looked.

You could, however, see Dante’s.

There was regret there in his eyes, all the fight draining out of him as he lowered his head a bit. This was a secret Dante had to have been sitting on for a long time, why he was so hellbent on keeping Nero from fighting Urizen...fighting his own father. The guilt and grief that simmered within his eyes made you want to cry on Nero’s behalf, especially considering how much he looked up to Dante, wanted to help him. The devil hunter was his uncle, they were family. You could only imagine how much that hurt.

Dante was trying to protect him.

“I had a feeling, the first time I saw you, but I just wasn’t sure,” Dante replied, stepping past Nero as he spoke, recalling memories of the past and taking on a faraway look. He turned back to Nero, expression far more serious than you were used to as he added, “And then I saw how the Yamato reacted...and I was certain.”

He was referring to when Nero acquired the sword--When it absorbed into his Devil arm all those years ago, back during the conflict between them and the Order of the Sword occurred in Fortuna. You remembered Nero’s tales of the events, how he explained the sensation of taking the Yamato into himself and learning how to use it. But of course he could--he was Vergil’s kin, the sword would have been able to recognize any trace of its owner in the white haired boy. That was the first indication of what was to come, but you and Nero were lacking in too much information to see it.

“He’s your father.” Dante said quietly, tone firm and absolutely resolute. Zero hesitations.

Nero’s silence broke volumes, your ears easily picking up on the labored breathing coming from his lips. He was trying to hold himself together, he was trying to stand under the weight this information wrought.

You both had something to ache about tonight.

“Now he needs an ass-kicking,” Dante continued, patting Nero lightly on the back, “But I can’t have you go and kill your old man.”

With that...Dante seemed to be done.

He walked away again, heading out of a tunnel entrance into the room out of sight with no glances behind him. Leaving you and Nero alone, both struggling to keep yourself from falling apart under the days events. You didn’t know what to do, what to say, how to help. How could you aid Nero now, drowning and barely able to hold your head above the water? To try and save another who was drowning as well...surely you would only make it worse? It was the blind leading the blind, and you didn’t want to cause Nero any more pain.

But...you couldn’t just do nothing. Especially not when Nero turned his head, staring at where Vergil was standing before and now allowing you to see his expression. The look he wore, so vulnerable and heart-broken...it made you freeze, eyes burning with tears as you saw a little boy in him, for a moment. One who had just wanted a family, but was now forced to deal with the consequences that came with having one. He looked conflicted, confused, hurt. All the things you felt but on a completely different spectrum.

When his mouth opened, he uttered in a quiet, emotionally raw tone, “My father…?”

You moved then, unable to stop yourself.

It was probably the last thing he wanted, or needed, but the pain in his voice was just too much to bear. You limped over to him, wrapping your arms around him from behind in a hug and feeling him suck in a sharp breath at the act. There was nothing else you could do, you had nothing left. It hurt so terribly, this burden you both shared in this moment of pain. He was your friend, one of the closest you had ever had, and you couldn’t stand to see him suffer too.

_You deserved better than this._

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, pressing your forehead to the back of his coat as you counted his shuddering breaths, “Nero...I am sorry...You will get through this. You will.”

_You must. One of us has to._

Nero didn’t say anything, but he also didn’t move away. You only felt him let out a slow breath, his head lowering as silence stretched between you both, one of his hands gripping onto your wrist and lightly squeezing. His only show of support to your actions with him not being able to speak. It was enough, just enough to let you know what was on his mind.

And it was all you could do, to stand there for a moment with your friend, offering the only comfort you could while you both tried to pick up the pieces Vergil had left in his wake.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmmmm take this long chapter, kids. Worked really hard on it. If you wanna see some spicy asks, check out my tumblr spirit-of-the-void

_ Chapter 26 _

The moment between you and Nero didn’t last for long.

The cold, hard reality of the situation was settling in. You couldn’t afford to sit and do nothing, not with Vergil at the top of the Qliphoth. That numbness was absorbing back, mixing with the endless need to confront the man, to give him a piece of your mind. You needed closure, _you needed something_. In the hollow void V and his familiars had left in your soul, anger and bitterness were taking their place, mixing with grief and loneliness. To be cast aside again, after so many years of people walking away--it was soul-crushing. In that moment, everyone in the van seemed so distant, all the people who loved you like static. White noise.

Honestly...what purpose did you serve anymore? You were useless to everyone, the very one you loved leaving you and becoming someone who couldn’t even be bothered to look in your direction. What if the others were like that too? Doubt was becoming so loud, ringing in your ears and quieting your logic. There was only so much left that could be done, a limited amount of times one could be betrayed. It left lingering self-hatred, insecurities, exhaustion. At this point, after this many instances of this happening...maybe they weren’t the problem.

_Maybe it was you._

And what a way to make yourself even more glum. The time had come to go full circle, landing on the final stage of the process--blaming yourself. A girl could only suffer so much before wanting to give up, before it all became to much. Blow after blow, tragedy after tragedy...maybe you really were destined to always fail, to never truly be happy? What a miserable existence that was. Had you been someone terrible in a past life, only to face endless torment as a result? _Maybe this was your fault._ You could have done better, could have done more to protect V. To stop all of this.

The very thought made you pull away from Nero, taking a step back and pressing a hand to your temple. _You needed to go, to move._ You would make it to the top of the Qliphoth, all the way up to Vergil even if you’d die trying. But...why? _Why bother?_ You clearly weren’t here to change a damn thing, that much had been made very apparent. Wasted time and wasted effort, the Deity’s motives scattered and unclear. All you knew was that you needed to go, needed to try.

“I have to go,” You whispered aloud, turning away from Nero just as he moved to face you. Staring in the direction Dante had traveled, eyes glassy and body still feeling like it had been hit by a truck, “I need to go to the top of the Qliphoth.”

Your Foresight immediately flared up at that, sending agony rippling along every organ in a very firm _“no”._

Nero echoed the sentiment, grabbing you by the wrist firmly as you started to walk slowly away, “Like hell…!” He snapped, tone harsher than he probably intended, “You’re at your limit! Just what the hell will going up to see him accomplish?”

How were you supposed to answer when you didn’t know yourself?

You shook your head, tugging on his hold and managing softly, “I don’t know. I just know I...I need to go.” That was why you had been sent here, wasn’t it? To find out who tipped the balance and deal out appropriate punishment. At least...that’s what you thought.

“I can’t just let you go up there and get killed,” Nero argued, exasperation creeping into his tone, eyes staring at you with unyielding stubbornness, “What the fuck do you have to gain? Seeing that bastard again is only going to make shit worse, he doesn't—“

 _“I know…!_ ” You yelled in reply, the force in your voice shocking even you. Nero flinched, hesitation flickering in his eyes as he continued staring at your face--he released your arm at the very least. You knew what the boy was seeing, about a thousand emotions ripping you apart and threatening to claw their way out. What the fuck were you supposed to do, to say, to feel? It was barely containable, leaking into your voice and projecting it with far more velocity than you would prefer.

You quieted your tone, wrapping an arm around your abdomen and turning your head away, “I know...I...just have to go,” You started walking again, the pain in your stomach growing with every step as you gritted out, “I have a duty to see this through.”

_If I don’t go, if I don’t try...then what was even the point of it all?_

That made the white haired boy sigh, words sounding so heavy as he replied, “I’m so fucking tired of hearing that. You sound like V when you talk like--”

 _“Stop,_ ” You cut him off, turning to hold up one hand and stopping his sentence in its tracks. Too much, too soon. You didn’t want to hear it, your poet’s name alone making your heart pound painfully faster, “Please...just...don’t say that.”

_Don’t say his name, don’t make me think about him anymore._

“...Sorry,” Nero muttered, rubbing the back of his head and turning his eyes away. Oh yes, there was most certainly regret in those gray-blue orbs of his. You felt bad immediately for snapping, shoulders slumping down a bit as he continued, “I know it’s hard, trust me if anyone fucking knows right now...I do,” He looked at you again, expression pained as he met your gaze, “But you can’t do this to yourself, not like this.”

You looked down at the ground, eyes squeezing shut at the pleading edge to his tone. Nero was trying so hard, he was just worried about your well being. But... _you_ weren’t, unable to care any less about what would happen. Even now it was hard to muster up any energy to listen to his reason, his logic. You were reluctant to say you didn’t trust Nero, because that wasn’t necessarily true. The demon hunter had done nothing wrong, he hadn’t hurt you or betrayed you. But...the doubts were so loud, and they were swallowing you whole.

_Will you really let him take even more?_

_But even then...what remains now with him gone? You, a cursed soul born to bear only sorrow and pain...surely all you would do is bring them down._

You swallowed hard, tone low and weak as you replied, “This is something only I can do...there is nothing left for me here, Nero.”

His body jerked at that, eyes staring incredulously and jaw tightening.

“Bullshit!” He snapped, words taking on the edge of a razor as he took another step toward you, “You’re better than this--better than what he fucking did…!” He softened his tone, eyes pleading as he whispered, “Do you honestly think any one of us would walk away from you like that?”

Fuck, he almost sounded hurt, like he could sense the uncertainties floating around your brain. The ones involving him, the others, the only people in your life. And that alone made you crumble more, filled with guilt and more of that gut-wrenching pain. How could you explain to him what you were feeling, just how many times people had chosen to walk away, to not care? You kept your eyes downcast, a shaking hand rising to grip your blouse. It was an unbearable feeling, a cold one, to never be wanted or welcomed by anyone.

_Even your parents didn’t want you._

_Heaven didn’t want you._

_And now the only man you loved didn’t want you._

_So why don’t you just return to oblivion?_

The Void’s incessant whispering made you groan, pressing your hands to your ears to try and block them out. Deafening, ear-splitting. Like they were shrieking instead of whispering. It was trying to feed into your doubts, coaxing you to return to the embrace of the Void once more. Returning meant sleeping again, and that meant...losing every memory you had here, every experience, touch, and affection. _He_ would never let you continue on this broken, the pain already crushing you and making you lose focus.

And somehow, living without those memories seemed like a worse fate.

“YN?” Nero asked worriedly, seeing the distress in your expression and taking a step closer.

You immediately tread backwards, not wanting to risk him grabbing you again. If the devil hunter was to drag you out of the Qliphoth, he was sure to succeed with how weak you were. No more energy left but fumes, and even those were hard to direct with the Foresight battering you at every turn.

“I’m fine,” You gritted out, obviously a lie as you lowered your hands, “On this...I will not be swayed. I need to get this out of me, Nero, this...this feeling. And I can’t do that in any other way,” You lifted your eyes, staring at him with so much loneliness and exhaustion that it made him inhale sharply, “I have to go.”

_Just let me go._

_You don’t need me anyway._

You turned again, hair draping over your face as you headed in the direction Dante had gone. You couldn’t waste any more time, not like this. It was too much to handle any more--something about Nero trying and caring...it made you feel guilty, like you didn’t deserve it.

_Let no one temper this pain with comfort. It is a reminder._

_“This pain will remind me that I am alive_ ,” You whispered, eyes staring numbly ahead as you fought agony in each step, “And I’ll take that punishment for my ignorance.”

You had done this, no one else. Holding in your questions, desires, and thoughts had only resulted in disaster. Not enough strength, not enough courage, not enough of anything. And that hesitation had lost you the one thing you loved the most. In that aspect, the Deity was correct--you were a fool to believe things could work out when you knew all along they were doomed. You ignored your own gut, ignored the truth hiding behind each question as an attempt to shield yourself from the oncoming disaster. But it still hit you, and wrecked everything it touched.

But something about what you said did not jive with the white-haired boy.

Nero let out a growl at your words, the sound of his footsteps rapidly coming closer echoing behind you as he warned, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Y/N, you can’t just--”

He was cut off by the Qliphoth starting to rumble, making you stumble forward and him back. You fell to your knees, definitely unable to stay steady on legs so weak. _What the hell could possibly be happening now?_ The day carried enough excitement to last a lifetime. You braced yourself on one arm, a gasp of alarm leaving your mouth when debris started falling from the ceiling, landing behind you in hard cracks of sound. One after another, pieces of the floors above piled on top of each other in a wall of misshapen flesh and stone. Now that the fruit was gone, that Vergil had returned...the roots of the tree were falling to the Earth, losing its integrity.

Nero shouted your name, the sound drowned out by the crashing and banging filling the room. You barely heard him, squeezing your eyes shut and covering your ears. He could handle himself, that was for sure--fast enough to not get hit by anything. As for you...he debris was close, but only enough to settle some dust across your frame, on the dark tones of that blouse.  Coughs burst forth, shaking your chest and rattling the pain already settling inside.

You didn’t move until the collapse had settled, turning in worry to see if Nero was alright. The rubble had blocked you off from him, cut him off from the path entirely. It was almost...you shook your head, slowly dragging yourself into a standing position and turning away. There was no way any sort of fate was on your side, not now and not ever. But it was for the best that Nero would be forced to turn back--he deserved better than to deal with his father any more. Dante was going to...was Dante going to kill him? Nero shouldn’t have to see that, or play a part in it.

_Maybe that’s why you have to go?_

_Because you don’t want that to happen, do you?_

That set your teeth on edge, a painstaking breath dragged through your lips. You had to see him, you had to see with your own eyes if V was truly gone. Nothing more nothing less.

You started walking again, letting out a sigh of relief when you heard Nero’s voice on the other side of the rubble, loud and frustrated as he started to try to make a path.

“Y/N! God damn it, you can’t just go up there and get yourself killed…!” He yelled, voice muffled and hard to hear as you moved further and further away, “Come back, just head down to the van..! You…”

_I’m sorry, Nero._

All that could be done now was to move forward in silence, passing up a narrow tunnel in the dying Qliphoth. You let out a slow, exhausted breath, dragging your feet with each footstep and biting on pain. When was the last time you had been this damaged, mentally or physically? Unconsciousness was a threatening force, growing every moment the Foresight battled your limbs. You felt bad for ditching Nero, especially when he was going through a hard time too. But...how could you possibly face any of them now, the girls in the van who treated you with such kindness? _Did you even deserve it?_ You had no reason to believe things would ever work out anyway, it was meaningless to try.

All you could do was move. Move and pray your body could take it.

Would you fight Vergil at the top? Protect him? Cry? That was something that surprised you, the fact that no sobs had left your body yet. Only tears, those shattered gasps and sharp breathing. Had you truly cried yet, a full body cry of despair that would release every pent up emotion at once? No...and you got the feeling it would never come, not while you could hold it back. It had been close before, when you saw V crumbling for the first time, but even then...you were holding so much back. For years and years you held it in, held everything in. But now…

Now you felt too numb, too empty to even try.

 _Return,_ The Void whispers wouldn’t go away, continuing louder and louder with each step, _Return to the Void. Return. RETURN._

Like hell. You weren’t returning, not now. You doubted ever. The Deity had betrayed your trust too, after all. The feeling of violation and fear had not left, lingering in all the tormented spaces between your thoughts. How could he do such a thing after all the years you spent following him, doing his bidding and breaking yourself if he even willed it? Such lines of thinking were tempered with guilt, the sensation deeply unsettling and uncomfortable. If not for the Deity, you’d be just another voice screaming among the chorus of the Void, but…

Maybe that would have been best.

Onward you went, thinking of everything that made happened, of the ones you had lost. That night of passion felt like a dream now, one you wished had never ended. V’s hands, his lips, those soft spoken words...had any of them been real, or just lust? Was it so terrible to try and convince yourself that he truly loved you? It seemed so possible at the time, his actions speaking so much louder than words. The poet had protected you, hadn’t he? Waited when you were suffering your consequences and keeping you by his side. Or...had that all been an act, a means to get him safely up the Qliphoth tree? But even when you couldn’t share that energy, he was still tender to you.

V had even tried to convince you not to help him. So...what was the truth?

And more so, the things V had shared with you, those vulnerabilities and fears. Were those stories true? He had spoken of the mother he lost so young, about growing up alone and being lonely...Would that mean Vergil lost his mother, and Dante for that matter? Or perhaps that was just a lie, spoken to you to earn your sympathy. Manipulation. It didn’t feel that way--His pain seemed so achingly real.

Or maybe you were just reaching, grasping at any straws you could find. It was all that could occupy your thoughts, filling the silence that came with traveling up the Qliphoth alone. Open air had finally been reached, a series of ledges and paths leading up into the sky. The breeze would have felt more relaxing if it weren’t for how terrible you felt, cooler now than the heat and wetness inside that blasted tree. Onward you climbed, glad that this place seemed to have been already cleared out by Dante--scratches lined the ground, telling the tales of demons’ death and Dante’s attacks. He had definitely been here, a good sign in your opinion.

Your body could barely handle the walk, legs buckling underneath you quite a few times. Each instance only lead to you breathing for a few moments, gagging on whale oil before forcing yourself to stand. The pain was bitterly consistent , mixing with the whispers in an attempt to keep you down on the ground. Each time you fell was harder to get up from, but you refused to stop.

_I’m not going back. Not now._

That thought solidified in spades when you heard voices carried on the breeze, both achingly familiar. One was Dante, the sound of him grunting and fighting as expected. But the other was what made your heart pound, breathes turning into gasps as you pressed up the next ridge harder and faster.

 _Griffon,_ that voice was Griffon. 

You’d recognize his stupid, taunting squawk anywhere. Growing ever closer, loud and abrasive as it echoed in the high altitude air. The thought of seeing him alive, seeing any of the familiars again…

It was the only hope you had left.

Trying to climb in the state you were in was fucking agonizing, a strangled whimper finally leaving you as you dragged your form up over the clif fside. The tendrils you usually relied on were weakened, sporadic in their attempts to hoist and aid you. It was a difficult task, but when you finally pulled yourself up over the lip of the cliff it you found yourself staring in shock, heart pounding in confusion and disbelief at what you saw.

The image of Griffon, Shadow, and Nightmare was like a kick to the gut, knocking all the wind out of you and making your eyes burn painfully. They were still here, not gone with the poet and _still alive._ But...that relief was fleeting, crushed into dust when you saw them fighting Dante, leveling the attacks they once used to aid in battles on him instead. And worse so, they were losing absolutely to the demon hunter. You could already see them growing weaker, unable to match Dante’s brute strength and abilities.

_Why? Why were they fighting? What the fuck were they thinking?_

You pulled yourself to your feet as fast as you could, blood roaring in your ears as you watched Dante raise his sword, going to level another attack on the bird you once held on your shoulders, laughing with, joking and--

_Dante was going to kill them._

_“Stop…!”_

You were shocked that a scream could even be mustered from your throat, bursting out from your lips and carrying over the space. It caused the fighting to immediately halt, Dante whipping around to look at you the same time all three familiars did, sword still raised over his head. And there you stood, panting and battered on the edge of their battlefield, staring at them in pain and horror at what they were doing. The fact that they stopped at all spoke volumes, giving you even a little shred of hope that you could salvage something from this hell.

The look on Griffon’s face shifted for several moments, you were not oblivious to it. After traveling for him those few days it was easy to identify his emotions before they were hidden--shock, guilt, regret, sadness, then bouncing to a neutral expression. Shadow and nightmare were even less easy to read, but you saw the cat’s tail droop towards the floor, ears twitching back and forth. You didn’t realize how much you missed them until that moment, eyes aching to cry as much as you held it back.

“I thought I told you and Nero to go back to the van…!” Dante yelled, sighing heavily and frowning at you as he turned his body in your direction, “Stay out of this, kid, it doesn’t concern you…!”

You were so fucking tired of hearing that.

Everyone seemed so hellbent on deciding where you belonged and where you didn’t, which conflicts were your business and those that weren’t. How could he say that to you, after everything suffered and how much Vergil...V...both of them hurt you?

Your opened your mouth to reply, indignation burning in your gut among the ice and pain, but Griffon cut you off.

“You shouldn’t be here,” He said flatly, narrowing his tri-pupil eyes on your form and adding, “Hate to agree with Dante, but he’s right.”

His words stung you terribly, breath catching in your chest as you squeezed your blouse again. Squeezed until your fingers felt numb. His tone sounded so cold, detached, and that tripled the hurt you felt. Even Shadow looked away from you, eyes staring flatly at Dante as they bared their fangs. Was this...really what it was coming to? Did they not care at all now, with V being gone? That alone made your eyes tear up, throat feeling like you had swallowed glass when you tried to breathe.

But the look on Griffon’s face before...you hadn’t imagined that, had you? Those brief flashes of emotions, the grief and regret. They had seemed real, but maybe...you had been reaching again.

_Please. No more. I can’t take anymore._

“Do you honestly think I would just stand idly by?” You whispered, staring him down with firm eyes as you tried to calm your breathing, “While you all fight up here like this?”

Griffon scoffed bitterly, ruffling out his feathers as he turned his face away.

“Sorry, toots,” He said simply, tilting his head to the side and growling at you, “But we don’t have time to play pals with you anymore.”

Is that all he boiled it down to? Playing pals? You swallowed hard, thinking back on all the moments you shared, every laugh and smile, those times where he was the only friend you had to talk to. Was that all an act too, just like how you were afraid it was with V? It had been so god damn precious to you, each moment he landed on your shoulders, beak to your face. When Shadow opened up to you, purring and soft after your nightmares…

It was all so fucking important.

 _Return to the Void. Leave them._ The Void whispered, sensing your thoughts and doubts. They were only growing louder, threatening to overwhelm you right when you needed to stay the most level. You refused, deciding that there would be no yielding to them, no going back—There was so much that still needed to be done, to be said.

_I’ll be damned if I don’t try._

You clenched your fists, voice coming out strained and raw as you countered, “Is that it then? Just going to drop everything, throw your lives away like they don’t matter?”

Griffon let out an annoyed huff, leveling his eyes on you again as he snapped, “Don’t you get it?!” He raised his sapphire wings, eyes sharp and cold as he lifted in the air, closer to you now. The gusting from his flapping made your hair sway, but your eyes wouldn’t move from his. Through it all Dante watched, quiet and expression unreadable. Like he wanted to see how things played out.

“V wasn’t the only thing cast off from Vergil,” Griffon glowered at you, tone harsher than you had ever heard it, “We’re just nightmares, the culmination of Vergil’s abominable thoughts. And a nightmare can’t feel anything, _princess_ \--that’s a fact you need to get through that pretty little skull.”

You felt your hands begin to tremble, trying to keep your expression neutral as he flung blow after verbal blow at you, dipping his talons into your despair and ripping it back out again. Even that nickname, what he had called you before you were friends. Before he knew you.

“It’s over,” Griffon said simply, a bit of a laugh mixing in with his tone as he went to turn away, “Now get lost. We have a demon hunter to fry.”

You felt your breathing go faster and faster, legs threatening to collapse under the weight of your despair as you opened your mouth to beg, to plead, anything to convince him otherwise. Gods, it couldn’t end like this. You couldn’t watch Dante kill them in front of you, not after losing V.

_Please don’t do this to me, don’t….!_

You fought back a whimper, eyes burning with threatening tears as you took a step in his direction.

But you didn’t make it any further.

_Return return return._

_No more running away._

_Return to the Void NOW!_

Before you could so much as muster a word to Griffon, the Void whispers turned into screaming, your eardrums rippling with pain at the sensation. You cried out, covering your ears and body crumpling to your knees as you tried to force the sensation away. Pain, so much pain, and now a cold feeling was growing at your back. Like being caressed by ice, the chilly wind wrapping around you until you were frigid with it. There was no mistaking that feeling, that prickling along your spine—that was the Void calling, demanding that you answer. Like the screaming of a thousand voices, millions, worming their way into your skull.

You felt the instant a portal opened behind you, hundreds of ethereal hands reaching out and grabbing several parts of your body, hard and unyielding. You heard the others around you gasp, but you couldn’t see them anymore—one of the hands clamped down over your eyes, fingers as black as the Void and so fucking cold you couldn’t stand it. They started to drag you back, pulling you toward the portal behind you mercilessly and strong—making you return back to the very place you didn’t want to go.

The Deity had enough. He was now forcing your hand, making you come back in a way you had never experienced. Terror filled your whole body once the realization set in, an alarmed cry breaking past your lips as every barrier fell. The pain, the anguish, the panic...they were now on full display, no longer able to hold back in the face of such unrelenting fear.

_Return. Return. Return._

_He demands it._

_You will return now._

_“No!”_ You screamed, fighting and thrashing against the hands as your body hit the ground, knocking all the air out of your lungs. The tears came soon after, white hot and desperate as they rolled past the fingers and down your cheeks. Gulping sobs started to wrack your frame, making it hard to breath as you fought and fought with every ounce of strength you had left. You didn’t want to go, you wanted to stay. _Scared, so scared_. Nothing like this had happened before, your worst nightmares coming to life one after another.

_He was going to erase everything._

_He was going to take your memories of V, Griffon, Shadow, Nightmare, everyone._

_You would wake days, months, years later. And you would be empty of them all, save for some lingering traces of agony you wouldn’t be able to place._

_You didn’t want to forget. You didn’t want the ones you loved to become ghosts of memories, all feelings without substance._

_“No no no…! I don’t want to go back…!_ ” You wailed, fingers trying to dig into the ground as you sobbed, desperately fighting the strong force dragging you inch by inch, _“Please…! Please don’t do this…! I don’t want to go back to that place…!”_

_It’s so cold there. It’s so lonely._

_Please, I can’t feel that anymore._

_“I’m scared…!”_

You didn’t hear the rush of wings or claws on the ground, nor did you hear Griffon’s shriek of alarm over the Void’s howling. But the claws that latched onto your shoulders were unmistakable, and it made you gasp in shock.

Griffon was holding you, flapping wildly against the hands trying to drag you through the portal. You could hear him cursing, grunting and straining as he tugged and tugged, talons digging into your flesh. Claws skidded over the ground, Shadow’s teeth clamping on your arm and tugging as well. You could feel them growling against your skin, panting and pulling with all their might. The familiars were trying to save you, they were…You felt your body shaking at the realization when it hit, desperate sobs bursting from your lips as all of Griffon’s harsh words dissolved like smoke.

 _Return. RETURN!_ The Void continued to scream, words punctuated by the hands gripping you harder, cutting off circulation now. There was no way Shadow and Griffon could manage, not against the will of a God. The thought alone made you cry harder, hyperventilating as panic gripped your heart so tightly it felt like it would burst. It didn’t diminish even as Nightmare joined the fray, his strange, large hands clamping down on your waist to hold you firmly planted against the ground. No matter what they all  did, you were still sliding, nearing the portal inch by inch.

_Please don’t let them take me. Please._

_“I don’t want to go…!_ ” You sobbed softly, breath hitching painfully in your throat as you struggled even more, _“Not back to the dark, the cold…! I can’t take anymore...I don’t want to forget…!”_

_I’m so scared. Please save me. Please._

Griffon let out a snarl of desperation, voice strained and sharp as he squawked above you, _“We have you, toots…! They won’t take you, not over my dead body…!”_

The problem was none of you would get a choice.

Right as your feet started to touch the portal, when came the thought all hope was lost,  you heard a sound from where Dante stood in his corner of the battlefield. For a moment, you forgot he was there, lost in the panic and fear and unable to gather your thoughts at all. But he made his presence very known in an instant, your eyes flying open in shock and a gasp catching at the back of your raw, scream-battered throat.

You heard him let out a shout, followed by the sound of metal whipping through the air over and over again. It traveled right over your head, passing by Griffon’s startled form and making him release a squawk of alarm. You realized belatedly that it was the sound of Dante throwing his Devil Sword, the blade impaling right at the center of the portal opened behind you. It landed with a thick, metallic crack, one that definitely resemble the sound of cutting into flesh. The moment it hit the hands dragging you vanished, the screams of the Void disappearing with low shrieks of pain. Relief, so much relief hit you—more than ever experienced before. You fell forward, pulled away by Griffon, Shadow and Nightmare now that there was nothing holding you back.

A sob left your throat, body resting on the floor as you tried to catch your breaths. Every part of you was trembling, shaking terribly as you tried to reign in the panic, the fear, the pain. But you couldn’t, that dam now broken wide open in the face of something so terrifying happening to you. Visibility had returned, but your eyes were swimming with so many tears that it didn’t matter. They rolled down your cheeks, dripping onto the dead, greying roots of the Qliphoth. 

You were scared, _you were so scared._

Shadow let out a low growl, wrapping around your form and baring their teeth at the portal behind you as Griffon yanked you into a sitting position, claws no longer embedded in your skin. You felt him press his beak to your cheek, voice overly loud in your ear as he squawked at you.

“Can you hear me? Toots? Are you alright?” He asked anxiously, feathers puffed out in distressed as more tears rolled down your cheeks. He called you toots this time, not princess. That alone was an even heavier relief on your heating, aching heart

You could manage no reply, wrapping your arm around your stomach and pressing your other hand to your mouth to hold back bile. You couldn’t breathe, the stress and anxiety were too much now. Drowning you.

Griffon could sense that distress, letting out a low trill and nosing your face a few times, “H...hey, come on now—it’s okay, yeah?” He stammered, awkward and not used to comforting someone crying, “You’re safe, we won’t let those freaky hands have you, okay?”

You sucked in another breath, trying to find the will to reply when you saw Dante stroll past you, a bemused smile on his lips as he stared at the portal. You inhaled sharply, turning your head to watch him and see just what the hell he had done—first thing to accept was that he saved you, stopping the hands in their attempt to drag you back to the Void and setting you free. It was his way of doing it that shocked you, and the events that followed that made your heart freeze in your throat and disbelief curl into a ball within.

He walked up to the portal where his sword was sticking straight out, eyes sharp despite the lazy expression on his face. Cold, cocky, annoyed. You read that very easily, noticing how his jaw tightened and his gaze narrowed on the swirling blue and black. He reached out, grasping the sword’s handle and yanking it out, and what came with it is what was most shocking. The air around you went bitterly cold, filled with the howling of the Void and a deep, low hum of energy as Dante retrieved his sword, impaled on it the body of a young man, his face the—what did his face look like again?

_No that...that wasn’t possible._

_That couldn’t be happening._

Your eyes widened, a gasp of alarm and fear filling you when you saw your Deity, held perfectly poised with the sword stabbed straight through his chest. Seeing him in the real world, in the flesh was...unnerving, like looking into a hole that extended so deep that you couldn’t see the bottom. The Deity was an enigma, every feature on his body visible but lost in the mind before memory could commit to it. What was his hair color? Dark, you think, but it still doesn’t register. Is he pale? Tall? Short? All you could remember was those dark eyes, staring with cold emptiness at the Devil hunter wielding the sword.

_By the Void, there was no way he was here._

Your Deity rarely showed himself to anyone but his followers, but to allow such a thing to happen was...unheard of, completely unbelievable. You could feel Griffon and Shadow staring at him in shock, seeing a God in the real world for a second time, only now in his flesh form. The Deity only left the Void in brief spurts, rarely in physicality, so this was…

_This was unreal._

He was not fazed by the sword impaling his insides, expression calm and a smile playing on his lips. Those black eyes stared down at Dante, the blue glow of the Void illuminating them both as the cold grew and grew, the area around you all seeming to darken. Wind was whipping your hair, kicking up dust and making Griffon yelp and hold onto you tighter. All you could do was stare in shock, heart pounding so hard it filled your ears with a dull roaring. You had never seen your Deity do this, not in any of the years you served him. To allow himself to be stabbed, to let Dante pull him out of his domain...what did he hope to accomplish? What was this game?

Unease filled you, spreading to every corner of your mind and making you tremble in fear. But Dante? He wasn’t fazed either.

He stared your Deity down, face calm and unimpressed by the display of power. He tilted his head, whipping out one of his pistols in his free hand and pointing it at the God’s face.

“Bet you think you’re hot shit,” He commented, raising a brow and raising his lips in a half smirk, “Making an entrance like that, trying to drag her back to your stinking little hole in the dark.”

The Deity smiled wider, looking bemused as he regarded Dante. And a bit...impressed? You blinked, unable to read his expressions considering that you could never remember them. The Deity was an enigma, completely incomprehensible no matter how hard you tried. Even now, as you watched you had no idea what to expect—would he retaliate? Leave? Sending the Void back for more.

But he only smiled wider, seeming absolutely delighted by the whole situation as he pressed his fingers to the Devil Sword. It didn’t like that, a sizzling sound ringing out as it sent a warning pulse of energy up his fingers.

 _“How...interesting,”_ He mused, raising his fingers and gazing at them in mirth, _“I haven’t felt an energy like that in such a long time.”_

Had your Deity met Sparda then? When? And how?

Dante clicked his tongue, cocking his gun right between the Deity’s eyes as he replied, “That so? Enjoy it while you can, because you won’t be staying,” He dug the blade in deeper, inciting no reaction from the God as he said cheerfully, “Why don’t you piss off and find somewhere else to find your entertainment?”

That earned him a low, ethereal chuckle, The Deity tapping his fingers over and over again on the sword despite its adverse reactions. Where he touched, ice formed and melted in an instant. He was testing its power, seeing how it would hold up to the Void’s energy in its purest form. You didn’t understand why, his reasoning for doing all of this at all. He hadn’t even looked at you yet.

_What is going on?_

_“How incredibly fascinating_ ,” His voice was a deep hum, black eyes staring Dante down eerily as his hair drifted on the swirling wind, “ _Tell me why I shouldn’t take my child back to the Void from whence she came? After all she has done to disobey me?”_

Those black eyes turned slowly to look at you, making your body cower like a child about to be struck by their father. Shadow, despite the absolutely obvious threat level, coiled around you more protectively, baring their teeth at the God in a snarl. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what the black eyed bastard was thinking, his motives. This was uncharted territory wherever he was concerned, having spent years in a cycle that you had long grown used to. When had he ever done this, been so reckless and out in the open? So cruel? There was not a time you could remember that was like this, not unless it was erased from you.

The Deity smiled as if he sensed your thoughts, that little curl of his lips making a shiver travel down your spine. Nightmare took a few steps up behind you, a silent giant that was equally as threatening as Shadow’s growling. As for Griffon, he was situated on your shoulders as always, a bit of his energy crackling in the air as he warily prepared to defend you.

Protection. They were trying to keep you safe. Something about that made more tears drip down your cheeks, pattering onto your lap and thighs.

Dante definitely didn’t like the Deity focusing on you, pressing the gun right up against the ethereal man’s forehead and tilting it back a bit. Immediately, all attention was returned to the smirking Devil Hunter.

“Your ‘child’ huh? Guess you’re not earning any Father of the Year awards any time soon,” He said sarcastically, tone taking on a sharp edge that surprised even you. He pressed harder, eyes not wavering from the Deity as he twisted the sword in his chest with a sickening cracking sound. You immediately flinched, eyes wide and shocked at such an action. The Deity didn’t even bat an eye, even when Dante continued on firmly, “Why can’t you gods get it through your head? Human souls aren’t your god damn toys to play with whenever you get _bored.”_

_Is that what I am? Just...a toy?_

_Was it really so wrong to see the Deity as someone who cared?_

Dante pushed the sword in all the way to the hilt, putting himself toe to toe with the bemused God as he scoffed, “How many dimensions have you sent her to, just to see how she messes shit up and hurts herself? You take advantage of vulnerable, broken souls and that shit doesn’t fly with me.”

Those words made you blink in shock, the realization creeping up on you and adding to the crushing despair. Was that all you were to the Deity, a toy that he was playing games with just to see how far he could push you? Time after time, you had done exactly as he asked and headed to a dimension only for them not care. But even on those missions, the Deity had been there to guide you at shrines, keeping up constant aid and communication.

What if every dimension was like this one, already set up to fix their own problems with you thrust in just to see how things could be shifted? The thought made your heart pound harder, vomit creeping up your throat and mixing with the whale oil. All this time, you thought the things you did were helping people, but...what if they weren’t?

_What if you truly were the problem?_

_“You sound like you have me figured out,”_ The Deity hummed, tilting his head to the side and holding up his hands in shrugging gesture of non-caring, _“Have it your way. I care not for this prattle any longer.”_

As you watched on in shock, his body started to turn black from the feet up, morphing into shards of black crystal that started to fly into the portal behind him. The wind grew even colder, blowing so hard that Griffon squawked and clung to your shoulders just to stay attached. So this wasn’t the Deity’s physical form after all, just a projection of the Void? You met his gaze, breath catching for a moment as his black eyes lingered on you. Reading his emotions was downright impossible, but for a moment...you thought there was something akin to satisfaction in those murky depths. That couldn’t be right, could it?

 _“We will speak again._ ” The Deity told you, his voice carried on the Void’s whispers as the crystals extended over his face, swirling away until he was completely dissolved back into the portal. The instant he left, a crackle of energy rang out, bringing with it a bass hum as the Void’s maw shut once more. It felt like all the air left your lungs in a single breath. Every emotion, fear, and weakness slammed into you like a truck. That seemed to be the final straw, your body falling forward a bit as you struggled to hold yourself up. It was too much, everything was too much now. First the things with V, then the familiars, now this…

Dante clicked his tongue, shaking his head as the sword was summoned back to his body. You felt him looking at you, footsteps moving closer as Griffon started anxiously nudging your face again.

“Are you alright, girlie?” Griffon persisted, a low trill leaving him when the tears continued to drip down your cheeks, “C...come on, it’s fine! He’s gone!”

But it wasn’t fine. Nothing felt fine. Especially not after what he said to you, tried to push you away just like everyone else. You shook your head, pressing a hand to your mouth and trying to steady the emotions clawing their way out your throat. Your life, your purpose...they had all crumbled to pieces, and all you had left was the pain that it caused. To exist only to help others, to try and fix their worlds when in reality you were just a toy sent there to stir things up, to change them how the Deity saw fit.

_Even the people here, you were never meant to help them. But…_

“So much for a nightmare not feeling anything,” Dante chuckled, causing Griffon to turn and look at him with an annoyed grunt, “Put those talons right in your mouth, didn’t ya chicken? Came right to the rescue.”

Shadow didn’t seem to care, still curled around you and pressing their head to your back. The warmth provided was one of the only blessings you had after feeling that bitter cold. The bird, however, had the graces to look aggravated and a bit embarrassed. It was he who spouted such things, after all.

“Kindly fuck off, Dante,” Griffon snapped in reply, lifting off your shoulders and flapping his wings wildly, “And what about you?! Could have hucked that sword a lot earlier…!”

Dante shrugged, looking a bit bemused as he smirked at the annoyed demon, “Had to let you and the other two prove yourselves wrong first.”

That earned him an indignant squawk, Griffon puffing out his feathers like an irritated blowfish. You were only vaguely keeping up with the conversation, watching with blurry eyes as Shadow padded around to the front of your body, rubbing their fur along you like a house cat. For a moment, your eyes met, and you felt like your heart was going to collapse at the look Shadow wore. They looked...sad, eyes meeting yours and head plopping on your lap. You knew what was going through their head, reading regret in those red orbs as their tail dropped again. That expression, as well as it could manage, said I’m sorry.

Something about that only served to break you more.

You felt a sob hitch in your throat, pulling the panther’s head up so you could wrap your arms around their form. Shoulders still shaking, eyes wet with tears that kept coming even as they leaned into you, letting out a low purr that rumbled all the way to your lungs. You missed them. You missed them. No more loss, no more tragedy. It was so painful now, the thought of having to walk away from any one of the familiars. Did they belong to Vergil? Would they even want you to stay? The thoughts wouldn’t stop, and in that moment you felt selfish, more so than you had ever been. Because no matter what was decided, you didn’t want to go on anymore if they weren’t there.

Griffon immediately fell silent, probably hearing your quiet sobs and looking over to see you holding Shadow against your body. Nightmare slowly sat down next to you, a low rumble traveling through the ground as he settled his weight. How were you supposed to convey any of what you felt to them, this agony? The lonely, aching feel that came when V left, ever heightened when you thought that they would leave you too. _It was agony, unbearable_. And it left your drive falling to pieces, all energy starting to drain away.

“....” You heard Griffon’s flapping wings, landing somewhere next to you and pressing his beak to your arm. He let out a light sigh, the air of it gusting over your chilled skin as he mumbled, “Fuck, toots. You really don’t make shit easy, do you?”

You felt a breath hitch in your throat, shoulders starting to shake again as you squeezed your eyes shut. What he said was true, you knew that. All you had done was complicate what would have been an easy task, one that didn’t need interference.

But, despite all of that...It wouldn’t let go. The emotion, the caring, the love you had grown for the three of them. How could you just walk away, after all the time you had shared? It felt so wrong to want something after all the mistakes you had made, the loss you felt. It changed nothing, your mind barely holding together by the feeling of Shadow’s body in your arms.

_Don’t leave me. Not again._

“Please,” You whimpered, stroking a hand down Griffon’s  feathers, resting it on his back as your fingers began to tremble, “Please.. _.don’t make me lose anyone else._ ”

You felt Griffon jolt a bit, feathers trembling and a small breath catching in his throat. It went so quiet for a moment, you weren’t sure if he was going to say anything at all. Dante stood by, silent as well despite all the bravado he showed earlier. You had walked in just moments before to them fighting, and if you hadn’t...would Dante have killed them? If a single moment had been wasted, you could have walked in on them disintegrating, becoming nothing more than a fleeting memory on the breeze. If no good was to come of you being here, you wanted to salvage one thing, just one. Your lack of action had lost V, you refused to stay silent anymore and lose the familiars too.

When Griffon finally spoke, his tone was quiet. More so than you had ever heard it.

“We...we’re just nightmares,” He rasped, but he moved closer to you and allowed you to wrap an arm around him too. His wings were tucked to his body, his head now close enough to press against your forehead, “That’s all we’ve ever been, the culmination of Vergil’s abominable thoughts as Nelo Angelo...We never mattered, not now and not then.”

His words made you hurt terribly, holding him closer and letting out a soft whimper.

 _“You’re more than that to me_.” You whispered, tone breaking as you poured every ounce of emotion you felt into that sentence. Every laugh, jibe, the moments you all shared...He needed to know how much they mattered, all of them did.

Griffon fell silent again, forehead still resting on yours as silence made its home for a few seconds. You couldn’t predict what he was going to say, but then again you felt like it wouldn’t really matter. No matter what choice he made...there was no more going forward. Your body couldn’t handle any more, not after the scare that had occurred here. You wouldn’t admit it to the others, but...you had lost feeling in your legs, akin to what you felt that day of punishment. The only way up to Vergil would have been to drag yourself by your tendrils or ask the familiars to carry you. And neither was happening.

But more than all of that...you realized that going would only interfere more when you didn’t belong.

Had the Deity not sent you here, V would have still made it up the tree to become Vergil once more, of that you were certain. Maybe he had been distracted by you during the horseman battle, leaving him open to attack? The familiars would have kept him safe, moving up the tree and to his final destination of where he belonged. Just acknowledging it was so painful, making your heart pound painfully in your chest as you opened your eyes again. This conflict wouldn’t have happened, none of it, had you just stayed asleep. And as much as that hurt...it wasn’t really your place to press for what shouldn’t have been yours at all. Swallowing that pain, that pride...it would be terribly painful, but it was so necessary.

_As much as it hurt, V and Vergil shouldn’t have even met you at all._

Griffon’s eyes opened when yours did, meeting your gaze with his own and letting out a soft sigh. You saw regret there, along with its close friends of sadness and guilt. He finally broke the silence, his strange maw opening and feathers puffing out again.

“We can’t go on without a new master,” He grumbled, almost begrudgingly so, gaze flickering away as he cleared his throat, “Know anybody who would want some cast-off dumbasses around? We ain’t got a lot of options.”

Hope budded, small and frail among the storm toiling inside. If he was implying what you thought he was... Your breath came out in a shudder, lips tilting ever so slightly into a smile for the first time since V had absorbed back into Vergil. You weren’t the only one with nowhere to go, without purpose or reason. The familiars had been thrown away from the white-haired male as well, left to their own devices and trying to fight Dante as one last ditch effort to prove they had worth. And in that...you shared something, a pain that no one else would understand.

_If we have no home, we will make it in ourselves._

You squeezed him gently as you pressed your head to his and Shadow’s, closing your eyes once more, “If we’re to be cast-offs,” You murmured, sacrificing a bit more of your Void energy and extending it to all three of them. It was such a strange sensation, feeling the way their own demonic energy burned and ached desperately to root itself, “The best way to do it is together...right?”

Griffon let out a light chuckle, his demonic power activating as Nightmare shuffled closer, bowing over you and letting the Void power connect to them all. You could feel them growing ever closer, the bond between you all like threads of steel, one after the other. They hovered in the air, waiting for those final words to be spoken to seal the deal. The sensation grew and grew, like vibrations curling around all your forms and crawling over your skin.

“Say the word, toots,” Griffon huffed, snapping his beak by your ear, “And we’re all yours.”

You opened your eyes again, expending that final bit of Void energy as you whispered the incantation into the air.

_“Through the Void, Souls are Bound.”_

Those threads of steel snapped into place, sealing the connection between you and all three familiars in an instant. It was an uncanny sensation, being suddenly connected to so many other beings at once. You could feel each one of their minds, just barely sensible in their thoughts and feelings. Like whispers hovering on the edge of your consciousness. Griffon’s abrasive nature, the languid predator that was Shadow, and strange, intangible static from Nightmare. It made you grit your teeth, feeling a burn spread over your shoulders down to your fingertips. They were filling you with demonic energy in those locations alone, coming into your form like they did with their former master. Tattoos, you realized belatedly--they were forming on your skin.

When you opened your eyes again, the three were gone. But you could feel them, writhing under your skin, getting used to the feeling of you after spending so long in another. It was so odd--like being touched on your shoulders and arms but no one being there. You lifted your hands, breath catching at the black markings extending over your fingers. For whatever reason, you had less markings than V did, something that confused you. Even upon examining your hair, it was expected to be ebony in color, like the poet’s as well. But...only a part of your locks were now black, on the one side curled around your face.

Griffon’s voice whispered through your skull, startling for a moment as he sensed your question.

 _“You’re a full vessel, toots. Not half a person,_ ” He grunted at you, sounding a bit tired as he took in all the feelings assaulting your body, “ _You really are a colossal dumbass, aren’t you?! How the fuck did you make it up here feeling this shitty? Why is everything so painful?”_ His squawks grew in anger, making you wince as he shouted, _“Have you lost your goddamn mind?! What the hell were you thinking coming up here to challenge Vergil when you’re this fucking damaged…!?”_

You winced more, putting your hands to your head and muttering aloud, “Christ alive, Griffon, please shut up.”

Dante chuckled at your words, taking a few steps closer to you and kneeling down by your form. You blinked, looking at his face with a bit of startled surprise. To be honest, you had forgotten about his presence for a bit there--The devil hunter had been so silent through that whole exchange, standing to the side and letting things unfold how you wanted them to. It was pretty respectable that he would give up his fight, knowing how much he didn’t like demons in the first place. All in all, he looked pleased, wearing that lazy smile as he met your gaze.

“Bet that chicken is squawking up a storm at you right now,” He commented lightly, wind blowing his white hair around his face a bit, “Telling you exactly what I’m about to--leave this tree, go back down to the van with the others. Let me beat some sense into old douchebag up there.”

You lowered your head, feeling incredibly lightheaded as you examined the tattoos now tracing the tops of your fingers. There was no fight left, no argument worth making. This was defeat, pure and simple, but a small victory had come out of it. To even have the familiars back in your life was more than could ever be hoped for. But...you knew that every and any limit had been reached, body barely able to move and a deep-rooted agony pulsing through your limbs. Unconsciousness was threateningly close, held back by purely determination alone.

There were so many doubts, regrets, fears. Ones that wouldn’t quiet.

“Are you going to kill him?” You whispered, breathing rattling in your lungs like frost as you tried to calm the curling sensations in your gut.

That made Dante sigh, scratching the back of his head lightly as he thought over what you asked.

“Do you care?” He asked in reply, raising a brow and meeting your eyes with a searching gaze of his own. You didn’t know what to think of him still, not after everything that had transpired. But...you got the feeling that, despite everything, you had just gotten the wrong opinions on Dante. Stepping off on bad footing, both battling doubts about each other with such a lack of information. You felt awful, but what else was new?

“...Despite everything,” You mumbled softly, shoulders slumping as you admitted to him, “I do. Not just for me, but for Nero as well. Can’t you both settle your differences and...and...not do this to him?”

To find out he had family, only to be forced to the sidelines while they tried to kill each other...it was more than cruel to the boy. Downright unfair, to be frank.

Dante let out another sigh at that, rising slowly to his feet as he grunted in reply, “Wish it was that simple...This shit never seems to end,” He seemed to stare off into the distance for a moment, remembering things from the past that you didn’t understand, “Either way, he needs a beating and then some for what he’s done.”

That you could understand at the very least. But...there was so much more, the insecurities swirling around your head that needed to come out. Vegril was Dante’s brother, right? Would he even begin to know what was going through the surly man’s head?

“Was any of it real?” You whispered, half expecting him not to answer you. Each moment with V was implied in those words, mingling with grief and hesitation now that you knew exactly what had been hidden from you, “Everything that he said...felt...about me? Or was I just another means to an end…?”

_Was it all a lie?_

Dante went quiet for a moment, gaze still staring off in the distance and deep in thought. For a moment, he looked fairly wise. More like a demon hunter who had fought and fought his whole life to keep humans safe.

“As long as I’ve known Vergil, he’s been the most stubborn dickhead I’ve ever met,” He finally replied, a bit of a smirk tilting his lips, “He’s a prideful bastard, hellbent on power and refusing to waste time on anything else. But...V was his humanity, the most repressed part of him,” Dante turned his gaze to you again, smile fading a bit as he continued, “So I can’t say for sure what he did or didn’t feel. But...I know Vergil is far too prideful to ask for affection or anything, to share himself with anyone. None of the shit I saw when he was with you, so...take that for what it’s worth.”

You didn’t know what to feel about that, or what to glean from it. Dante’s deduction was the word vomit equivalent to a shrug.

But Griffon was there, hovering on the edges of your conscious mind and hearing everything that was said. You felt him stir, his thoughts pressing against yours and voice so quiet.

“ _For the record, toots,”_ He said gruffly, voice ever so faint and filled with regrets, “ _I was in his head, what Shakespeare felt for you...well, it was more real than anything he was used to._ ”

Hearing that from the bird was just...it somehow made things hurt more, the reassurance both a blessing and a curse. You clutched a hand to your blouse, more tears rolling down your face as you tried to swallow down more whale oil. If Griffon said it was true, was it alright to believe it? You could tell it was what he honestly believed, in no way a lie or an exaggeration. The connection you shared definitely kept things truthful. But...V was now gone, lost inside the sea that was Vergil and taking that love with him. And that ache was more than you wanted to stomach at the moment.

“...Even if I go down there,” You mumbled, exhaustion in your tone and eyes squeezing shut, “I shouldn’t have been here to begin with...would they even really want me?”

_I refuse to be a burden on others._

Dante scoffed, walking over and planting a firm head on your hair. You let out a surprised sound, feeling him ruffle it lightly as he replied, “Y’know, when I stopped by the van on my way up one of the first things Lady, Nico, and Trish asked me was where you were. They harassed the shit out of me about it--weren’t too happy that I had left you and Nero alone after all that had happened.”

That made you blink, heart squeezing softly as you thought of them all in turn. Even Trish, who wasn’t as close to you as the others. They had been asking about you? It felt strange, remembering all the times with them you shared as well. There was a strange ache in your chest in regards to everything, knowing that things had fallen apart so terribly.

_They tried to help me, but in the end we could all do nothing._

“You seem pretty loved to me,” Dante continued, patting your head again and offering a friendly smile, one warmer than his usual smirks, “Best not keep them worrying for too long, right?”

 _Loved._ The word felt strange in regards to you, but it was only confirmed by the familiars now inside your body. You trembled as you felt it from them, surrounding you from the inside like a warm embrace, chasing away that cold. And in that moment...it was enough, enough to make you turn around. To go back to the others and try. If the familiars could love you despite everything, to hold you so dear even after such short interactions...Maybe the others could to.

“I...I don’t know if I can walk,” You admitted, voice cracking a bit as you tried to bite back more tears, “I’ve pushed myself as far as I can go.”

Griffon materialized out of your body at your words, flanked by Nightmare’s hulking form.

“The big guy here will carry you down,” He said firmly, landing on your shoulders and pressing his face to yours, “We’ve still got some juice in us from Vergil’s rebirth, we can manage for a little while on our own before we return back.”

Nightmare nodded slightly, slowly reaching down with his large, club-like arms and lifting you off of the ground. Jostling your aching form was painful, a whimper escaping your lips despite all efforts. But Nightmare was trying his hardest to be gentle, you could feel that. He held you in something akin to an embrace, tucking you to his chest and cradling you protectively. It was funny--you had tried so long to find time for hugging Nightmare, and now you were finally getting it. When things were their most terrible.

You sniffled softly, eyes tearing up as you mumbled, “Th...Thank you...I’m sorry. For everything.”

Dante let out a scoff, waving off your apologies as he barked in reply, “None of that, you didn’t do anything wrong. Just focus on resting and getting to safety,” He gave Griffon a two finger salute, stepping back and adding to the bird, “Adios, Chicken. Make sure she gets back to Nico’s van in one piece, yeah?”

Griffon snorted, landing on one of Nightmare’s shoulders and ruffling his feathers. Or, at least you thought he did. Now that you were horizontal, eyes staring up at the sky...unconsciousness was overtaking you, edges of your vision swimming with black as each and every exhaustion claimed its victory. Tired, you were so very tired. You gave too much, felt too much, cried too much--now you were running on empty. The sky was still, somehow, blue. The orange and pink tints of a coming sunset dancing on the edges of the clouds. It was so strange to think that all this madness had transpired in one day, that you had met V days ago. It had been a lifetime extended over a week’s passing, but it felt like more than that.

That night of passion with V felt so far away. Your first kiss, hearing him say he loved you...it was so precious, but it came and went in a breath’s time. You both had certainly misbehaved, but you couldn’t find yourself to regret it while feeling so overwhelmingly numb. Your eyes closed, body not feeling any of Nightmare’s footfalls as he turned and started to walk away from Dante.

As you drifted away, you heard Griffon’s voice, low and full of warning as he spoke one last line to the demon hunter.

“Good luck Dante...You’re gonna’ need it.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exploring some different POV this chapter! Hope you all enjoy seeing the thought process of a certain Sparda boy <3

_Chapter 27_

_(Griffon  POV)_

Bad, this was bad.

You had been out like a light for a while now. As soon as Nightmare wrapped you up in his strong, demonic arms your eyes closed and you lost all consciousness. It was for the best, but the bird wasn’t anticipating just how far down they would have to go. The tree was collapsing, making for treacherous travel, a lot of climbing and maneuvering, two things Nightmare was really shitty at. They were doing their best, but they were running out of Vergil’s residual energy. Which was the bad part. Everything had turned into a race against the clock, trying to get you somewhere safe to heal and recover before they had to return to your form.

Griffon had vaguely noted the silver cane that V formerly used before they set out. Dante had walked right past it, leaving it glinting in the sun with nowhere to go. He didn’t know why, but the bird grabbed it, swooping over quickly and returning back with it clutched in his talons. Any reminders of the poet would hurt you, that was obvious, but...he felt like it belonged to you now. After all, it was what V used to command them in the first place. So he chucked it into Nightmare’s swirling form, letting the bigger familiar absorb it into himself and making a mental note to tell you about it at some point. You deserved to have something left from him at least.

Griffon was still trying to process it all--being inside the body and mind of someone new was strange. And when it came to you, he was learning a lot more and realizing things he wish he’d known earlier. Christ, you were a _fucking mess._ Just as bad as Shakespeare was. Hell, you were almost worse, there was so many things to unpack about your trauma and body, he wasn’t sure where to start. There was this underlying feeling of pain constantly radiating in your limbs, that swirling Void power always leaving a dull ache in your stomach and chest. Was this how it felt for you all the time? Just how long did you suffer in pain? It never showed, save for the occasional wince or hand to your temple.

Fuck, he felt bad. You were such a cheerful thing before, but underneath was a storm of bullshit he didn’t know how to help. This whole situation had just fucked you up more. He should have been honest with you from the beginning, but what the hell would that have changed?

Regardless, that didn’t matter now. Getting you to the van did. But it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. They made it about halfway down before Nightmare’s steps started to slow, as if the tar-like substance that made up his body was sticking to the floor. Griffon was feeling fatigued himself, but they couldn’t afford to stop now, not being so high up. If the tree went down, you would get hurt badly--not to mention the threat of demons still crawling around.

“Come on, you big lug!” Griffon squawked at the giant moving ever so slowly along. But he was panting, exhaustion in his tone just from flapping his wings, “Get a move on, no time to rest now…! Gotta get her to the bottom at least!”

Nightmare’s eye rolled eerily over to look at him, conveying every ounce of annoyance he felt for his avian companion. Yeah, he got it loud and clear. Mouth shut, eyes forward. Couldn’t make what was impossible, possible. To be completely honest, Griffon was expecting them to kill Dante or at least die trying, then fade into nothing like Vergil wanted them to. You had never been a part of the equation, and if you had...he wouldn’t have wasted so much energy trying to blast away the idiotic demon hunter. He would have waited, so they could get you down the stupid fucking tree without so much issue.

Yeah. Planning ahead wasn’t his best feature.

It was an unfortunate trait that he began to regret more and more, finally coming to an ultimate wall when Nightmare stopped entirely, falling to his knees still holding you. Fuck, that wasn’t good--they were never going to make it down the tree at that rate, leaving you exposed and in danger up on a goddamn ledge. Griffon panted heavily, landing on the ground next to Nightmare as he sat you gently down, your head lolling to the side in your unconsciousness. The bird felt a pang of guilt as he stared at your face, taking in the dark circles under your eyes and the pallid color of your skin. You looked like hell and then some, the days events showing on you and taking their toll. Griffon felt awful. The look you wore when he saw you standing there, watching them fight…

Damn it, he didn’t like feeling this guilty. What was he supposed to do? They had fucked up, all of them including the poet. Griffon had been concerned all along that this would happen, encouraging it in the beginning but...he didn’t know then. How could the bird have imagined just how close you and V would become? At first it seemed amusing, an attempt to get V laid and loosened up a bit. But getting to know you, seeing how you interacted with him made the bird realize just how dangerous it could get. Love was never part of the plan. But V still never stopped, he went through with it despite his guilt and reservations. And that...fucking sucked.

“Shit, fuck,” Griffon panted, nosing your face with his beak and trying to will you awake, “Up and at em’, toots! We can’t go any further, you gotta pause that nap for a little bit…!”

You gave no sign of stirring, so deep under now that any and all chances of waking you were slim to none. Griffon looked up anxiously at Nightmare, meeting his glowing eye and letting out a light trill. What the hell were they supposed to do? Even the giant was at a loss, sitting back on his ass with a heavy thud and closing that eye of his. He had no juice left either. Griffon grunted lightly, trying to latch his claws onto you and hoist your body up, but he had no energy left either. You were heavier than Shakespeare--the man was a twig and you were healthy and having more...er...filled out areas.

“We’re so fucked,” Griffon groaned, slumping over your form and pressing his head to your hair, “We tried, but we’re still useless. God damn  it!”

There was no response from the other familiar, which was typical. Wouldn’t stop Griffon from muttering to himself.

“We fucked up big time,” He continued to grunt, ruffling his feathers and staring ahead while he talked to no one in particular, “Could have told her in the beginning, could have saved her from all this bad shit. But no. Had to be as dumb as Shakespeare--bonus points for being an even bigger dumbass earlier.”

Nightmare made no sound, but Griffon could feel the exasperation coming from him. The bird was fighting the urge to absorb back into your body, debating if maybe Shadow could come out and drag you a bit further at the very least. But that could be a waste of energy better suited for protecting you where the other two couldn’t, Shadow being the only one who stayed in your body while they traveled downwards. The mighty cat materialized as soon as the thought popped into his skull, landing on their paws in a cloud of black dust. As much as he hated it, they would be forced to summon back for at least a little while, leaving Shadow to make sure no baddies tried to come at you.

“Stay with her for a bit,” Griffon told the cat, exhaustion in his tone from blasting so may demons on the way down. Shadow blinked their red eyes, sitting back and listening attentively to the bird as he continued, “If we play our cards right...we can move her down in bursts. Just...just gotta catch our breath.”

Shadow bowed their head, understanding flickering along the connection they shared as the cat settled along your form. Providing warmth, ears flickering as they watched over the ledge and incline downwards. Griffon knew they could last for an hour at least, providing cover and protection while Nightmare and Griffon recharged a bit. That is...unless they wouldn’t be able to--you were so injured, tank running on empty and healing on top of all of it. If you were still weak, they couldn’t very well get energy from you. It was his last thought when he and Nightmare finally succumbed to the need, turning into dust once more and taking their place under your skin.

They would reach that hurdle when it came. But if not...well. Griffon could pray for a miracle, right?

_(Vergil POV)_

Well. To say that Vergil’s day had been strange would be far understating the true gravity of it all.

His memories were spotty, fuzzy. A whirlwind of things from the past, the present, and things that didn’t even seem like he lived through them at all. Upon reawakening as his full, revived self his skull had rattled with things that were definitely unfamiliar to the elder son of Sparda. It was disorienting, strange, unsettling. He felt far more whole and complete than ever before, and yet...there was a sense of being disjointed, unsure of himself. He felt different, changed, unlike who he was before separating man from demon but still retaining all his base personality and desires.

Vergil still carried his mistrust of Dante, the resentment. Though it was changed now, mellowed and quiet in comparison to how he was before. It would be fair to say Vergil himself felt a lot more in control of himself compared to when he stabbed his form with the Yamato, body no longer damaged and his nightmares remaining from being Nelo Angelo seemingly...gone. But that wasn’t to say things weren’t growing more hectic and confusing by the second, mind struggling to keep up with it all whilst maintaining his usual demeanor. Those defense mechanisms were kicking in, the ones Vergil was reluctant to admit he had at all.

For one, he had memories from his demonic half. The more unsettling ones, memories of erecting the tree and the death of so many human beings. Vergil was not a man easily made uncomfortable, or guilty for that matter...but such sensations existed, and they irritated him on top of tugging at the edges of his thoughts. The memories were in his head, but they didn’t feel like his. Disjointed, the actions beyond his will and plans when he used the Yamato on himself--to be completely honest, he had not anticipated that when he did such a thing it would literally separate his two halfs entirely. The son of Sparda had convinced himself that it would merely cast away his humanity, leaving him with the same consciousness but a stronger, less brittle form. To make him wholly and completely demonic in nature.

He was not so lucky. Such actions had caused him to stumble around in two, separate forms for a while. And one cause so much death and destruction on the city Vergil wasn’t sure how to process it.

His mind focused on what it knew in an attempt to defend itself from the guilt. Dante was here, and he wanted to fight. That provided normalcy, amusement. That was something Vergil knew, remembered, and understood. A deep, burning need to defeat his brother, to prove himself stronger. It was something to root himself in reality, and he kept to that while his mind allowed it, fighting his brother like old times and reveling in his newfound strength. Vague memories of taking a bite out of the forbidden, powerful fruit lingered on the edges of his memory, explaining why he felt so spry and alive. But...it didn’t make a difference.

Dante still held his own. As always.

Why was he so strong, so powerful? He still had strength, enough so that Vergil found himself toe to toe with his brother, the one who didn’t eat the fruit at all. Maybe it was due to Vergil being distracted...he had a lot on his mind. First of all being the revelation of his son--Nero. Finding out he had spawned a child down the line was...staggering to say the least. Vergil was reluctant to admit he didn’t know when he went to get his sword back that Nero was his son, but it was pretty easy to guess in retrospect. Had he not been so broken then, sickly and dying...he could have figured it out. But he hadn’t, and he ripped off Nero’s arm without a second thought.

Did he feel guilty? He wanted to say no, mind not really dwelling on any of it too long. But...there was a twinge of something he tried to ignore. Focus on the fight, focus on beating Dante. A son is of little consequence. Right? He tried and tried not to think about it, but the knowledge was now a burden on his mind, so loud among the already chaotic thoughts and memories. He didn’t like having so much confusion, so much to worry about and that stupid, foolish guilt. That had to be why he lost to Dante, surely. All these new, chaotic thoughts had to have made him sloppy, giving his brother and edge he wouldn’t otherwise have.

And amidst all those chaotic thoughts...was you.

You were the most confusing of all the memories, Vergil unable to comprehend just what to think in regards to them. Upon waking up again, he couldn’t understand the images floating around in his consciousness, fuzzy and both familiar and unfamiliar. It was…curious. Strange. He was certain he had never met you before, but...he knew you. There was a familiarity there that he didn’t understand, so many tangling emotions pushing against his skull and only seeming to complicate things more.

Why? Why did he feel that hard ache in his chest when he saw your face? That horrified, broken expression you wore while staring at his newly awakened form. The shock, the remembrance when you attacked him--usually he would have simply pulled out his sword and struck you down. You were volatile, easily defeated in such a weak, collapsing state as you were. But he found hesitation there when he stared into your black eyes, a dull throbbing in his chest as he took in the blue streaks staining your cheeks, your lips. Why was that look you wore so upsetting? Those eyes, hollow and shattered as you begged him for answers, lips trembling and body pushing you far too much.

His first thought should have been “who is this girl? How pitiful”. But instead, he found his mind snapping to attention, realizing how much you were damaging yourself and...worrying? Surely not, but it was there. It was so perplexing to Vergil, mind reeling and trying to process even while his mouth spouted the first things he could think of.

Calling you the only name that came to mind. _Sparrow._ The look you wore when that name was uttered on his lips was seared into his brain--like he had slapped you across the face without realizing it. There was opportunity in such a distraction, but Vergil felt like it was a hollow victory. Like kicking a puppy. 

Even after fighting Dante, then Nero in turn he couldn’t shake it. The way your tone cracked, voice wavering painfully as you asked him _“why?”._ Your black eyes, filling with tears and lips trembling as blow-tinted tears rolled down your cheeks. _  
_

He didn’t like that, didn’t like the thoughts and emotions he couldn’t seem so shake. Especially more intimate ones, things he surely should not have. Of cupping your cheeks, stroking your hair and touching your lips. Of you underneath him, eyes staring at him in adoration as his tattooed finger slipped over your mouth…

Such a memory was dangerous, threatening to make him falter when he should otherwise focus.

What in the world was happening to him? Those were not his hands. He bore no black tattoos, but...he remembered times where he had. Of the familiars he commanded, the manifestation of his nightmares made real. These were the memories of his human half, of that he was able to figure out fairly quickly. And that was...alarming. Why was he seeing all of these things, these images and thoughts mingled with the demonic ones as well? It left him questioning so much, torn between feeling the emotions and images as his own and like they belonged to someone else.

That was him, a part of him. He felt both connected and not.

How unbelievably confusing--Vergil was just barely able to cope with it all, maintaining himself through the fight with Nero. And that, too, lead to defeat. Why was his son so strong? He had a strange power, a curious one, holding his own perfectly fine against his father despite his diluted demonic blood. The fact that Nero came to stop the fighting at all was so perplexing to him, since he clearly meant nothing to the boy after not knowing him his whole life. Why was he so determined to try, to get between Vergil and Dante in their fights? It was irritating, but even Vergil knew when he was beat.

He tried to tell himself it was due to him fighting Dante earlier. Maybe.

But he stopped when Nero asked of it, deciding that taking down the Qliphoth was more important than defeating his brother at that moment. He wanted to be done with the tree--maybe cutting it down would cut away some of that stupid, nagging guilt pinching the back of his skull? Such thoughts made Vergil scowl, but he bit back the annoyance and settled on letting Dante come with him despite his reservations. The annoying, white-haired sibling provided a distraction that Vergil felt he needed with everything going on.

Nero also asked about you, like he expected you to already be up with the other two when he arrived. That made Vergil both surprised and uneasy, the idea of seeing you again was...a strange one. Dante explained to the worried boy that he had sent you back down the tree, but didn’t elaborate in the slightest bit. They had a job to do, a tree to cut down in the underworld.

As for Nero, he wasn’t allowed to come. A single, hard placed fist to the face from the brothers sent him flying back, sprawling on his ass several feet away. Vergil admired his dedication, but he was another thing the cold man really didn’t want to think about while they cut down the damned tree. Besides, he had things to take care of on the surface and had no place in hell like the rest of them. He was filled with that humanity Vergil didn’t care for, emotional and brash through the entire fight and filled to the brim with resentment. He wanted to prove himself, with Vergil didn’t have the patience for.

“Take care, Nero,” Dante said with a smile and a salute, stepping back while the boy sat up and stared at them both with annoyance, “Adios.”

He leapt off the side of the Qliphoth, turning into his Sin Devil Trigger form and gliding down toward where the portal opened below. Vergil lingered for a moment, meeting Nero’s eyes and sizing him up one more time. He did certainly look like him, there in that furrowed brow and in his eyes and lips. But his attitude and emotions were very reminiscent of Dante, who definitely had a hand in shaping who Nero had become. Vergil let out a low hum of amusement, a bit of a smirk curving his lips as he pulled out the book he acquired as a child.

“I won’t lose next time,” He promised, tone full of cold challenge as he tossed the leather-bound novel onto the floor in front of his son, “Hold onto that until then.”

It was a declaration, and also...a reassurance. That he and Dante would return, despite how cut and dry things seemed. And he would come back--there was a score to settle now. He wanted to see just how powerful his son could be, a rematch after he wasn’t so scattered in the head. _Distracted_. That was what he blamed for so many losses after another--surely he would do better if he didn’t have so many confusions and concerns.

Vergil turned, sparing Nero one last glance before he launched himself up, turning into his own blue Sin Devil Trigger form and diving in the direction Dante had taken. The rush of air past his armored body felt good after the stagnant heat of the Qliphoth, wings gliding him quickly downward to reach the portal he had caused. Up in the air, the destruction was plain to see--the Earth cracked, buildings ruined, broken roots lining the streets down below that were now empty of human life. The tree itself was ugly, an annoying eyesore despite the fact that it had lead to Vergil gaining more power, devouring its fruit and regaining his vitality. And what good that did him--he still lost to the other two. Still lacking, it would seem.

And what an annoying thought that was. The fact that despite all his efforts, he was still lacking the necessary strength to fight his brother. So many failed attempts had only ended in ruin, and now several deaths added to the price paid for the sake of power. Vergil was...tired. Too tired at that moment to maintain the level of anger he needed to keep his drive. The events of the month or so had left him different, and he needed to figure out whether he embraced the changes or not. It seemed like something worth thinking about briefly as he followed Dante’s path.

Vergil’s eyes scanned the tree on his way down, taking in the curling roots, the way it curved into the sky. It definitely needed to be destroyed, it served no purpose now but to be a reminder for how much things had gone poorly. It was already on the verge of dying, grey and turning brittle now that the fruit was--

He saw something that made him halt.

His wings pounded hard, sending up gusts of wind as he stopped his velocity in its tracks. In this form, his eyes were sharper, so he definitely wasn’t mistaking what he was seeing. There, on a ledge halfway down the tree. You were unmistakable--body prone on its side and the familiar form of Shadow curled protectively around you. Vergil hovered in the air, staring at you lying there unconscious with that nagging sensation pressing on the edges of his skull again. What the hell were you doing laying there? Dante claimed he had sent you back down, but it would seem you didn’t make it all the way. Something about that annoyed him--why would Dante send you back down in such a state?

 _She reached her limit_ , his mind thought on its own, _it’s dangerous there._ It came without him even thinking, the nagging voice in his brain urging him to help you. Instinctive. His clawed fingers clenched into fists, a low growl emanating from his glowing chest cavity as he trying to decide what to do. He had a job to do, a task to focus on that didn’t involve you in the slightest bit.

But...there was that feeling again, pressing to his chest at the sight of you lying there. Looking broken and tired, body curled up next to his former nightmare and not moving. And what was that about? Why was Shadow still around, the manifestation of his abominable thoughts sitting with you like a protective house cat? Dante failed to mention that you were being helped down by them, but it seemed to not be working out to begin with. _Foolish_. Vergil would have scowled if this form allowed it, his eyes narrowing slightly as he debated for a few more seconds what to do. That sensation grew, moving him closer without thinking so he could see your face, the way your hair pooled around your head. You looked exhausted, you looked...not like yourself.

_Guilt._

_God damn it._

Vergil growled again, wishing he could even remotely understand what he was feeling. He felt like a fool, body moving on its own and flying over to your ledge. Shadow looked up at the sound of beating wings, eyes narrowing and baring their teeth at the demonic male. He saw them jolt in the next instant, recognition flashing in those bright red eyes as they realized just who he was. How absurd it had to be, to see the very person that they once used to be a part of. Vergil landed, not breaking eye contact with the glorified house cat and watching how their pelt rippled warily with glowing patterns, ears flat against their skull. No friendliness left for their former master, it would seem. They certainly didn’t look happy to see him, curling around you more and lip curling up in warning.

Vergil tilted his gaze to you, making Shadow leap up and snarl loudly in threat, back arched and claws scraping against the greying ground. Vergil wasn’t fazed--Shadow was the manifestation of bad thoughts, made into a demon that he could easily defeat. But he took in your form, realizing by the changes he saw that the familiars now had to be yours. Tattoos lined your arms, a single part of your hair now black as it draped over your face. He remembered then, a brief few flashes of images that made him lose focus for a moment. Images of you with Griffon on your shoulders, laughing and grinning. Of you teary eyed, beaming as you kissed the top of Shadow’s head like they were a big, fluffy cat. Charming his nightmares like it was nothing, loving them despite what they were.

_God damn it._

“If she stays here,” He said to the growling demon, tone warped and demonic as his wings folded against his body, “She will die. With her this weak, you won’t be able to sustain yourself for long.”

Shadow’s ears pressed tighter to their skull, eyes glaring daggers at him as another growl burst forth. That spoke their message loud and clear.

Vergil clicked his tongue, half turning away from the cat as he replied coldly, “If you wish for her to die, then so be it.” He didn’t have the patience for this, but...his feet felt rooted to the spot.

_I can’t just leave her there._

_But why?_

Shadow let out a low, distressed sound, gently lapping at one of your cheeks in an attempt to wake you up. For a moment, Vergil felt a twinge of concern that you may be dead. But your chest was rising and falling, eyelashes twitching against your cheeks as you slept away all the pain. Your breaths were short and pained, he saw you wince occasionally and curl up on yourself more. His fingers twitched at his side, Vergil clenching his jaw when he realized he had to physically push down the urge to stroke one of your cheeks. What was happening to him? And why?

But Shadow seemed to sense his confusion, staring at him with red eyes far too knowing as he struggled with himself. Even in this form, they were able to read his expression, bowing their head to him for a moment before raising it again. There was a warning in that sharp gaze, one that clearly said if anything would happen to you Shadow would tear him to pieces. Or at least...they would try. The mighty cat then turned into swirling dust, absorbing back into your tattoos and making them darker now on the one side. Home, it would seem.

Vergil didn’t want to waste any more time, walking slowly closer to you and crouching down next to your body. Inside he was a storm of emotions and confusion, unable to understand his own thoughts and instincts anymore. What had become of him when he split himself in two? His human half was far more busy than he had ever thought capable...far stronger now. These emotions definitely felt human in nature. There was no mistaking that.

He pushed back his reservations, sliding his clawed hands under you and lifting you up into his arms. You were so light, body curling up against his hard chest and still out like a light. Something about this felt...Vergil couldn’t place his finger on the term. He resisted the urge to hold you closer, to press his face to your hair and inhale. He could smell it, the faintest hint of apples from you. Foolish, he told himself harshly, turning and launching himself off the edge again with those mighty wings. The movement jostled you, but there was no sign of waking. Only a soft whimper of pain, one that started that dull ache in his chest again as he carried himself swiftly upward again.

He couldn’t just take you down below and deposit you on the street. That was equally, if not more dangerous. Vergil could not see the van either, his best other option was to leave you with the only person he knew would take care of you. The thought triggered another memory, one of you walking and talking with Nero, smiling warmily as he talked about his fiance at home. The boy was your friend, wasn’t he? Vergil swallowed his pride and annoyance, knowing full well the best course of action would to hand you off to Nero before heading back down. Dante could wait and wonder where he was for a few more moments.

Vergil wasn’t shocked when he saw Nero still standing where he left him, staring at the book and flipping through the pages. He looked annoyed, an expression that morphed to shock when Vergil crested over the ledge and into sight. Nero was by far the easiest person to read that Vergil had ever known. His face went through several emotions as he registered that his father had returned moments later. First being shock, then aggravation, then more shock when he saw you, landing on relief and worry.

He will take care of you. Of that, there was no doubt.

“Y/N!” Nero exclaimed, rushing forward when Vergil landed and tucking the book into his jacket. The demonic male held out his arms automatically for the boy to take you, but it felt...stiff. Like his body didn’t want to let you go. He tried to keep his expression in this form neutral, but his eyes lingered on your sleeping face as it moved away, now resting against Nero as the boy continued on, “Where the fuck did you find her?! I thought Dante said she was making her way down…!”

Vergil snorted, turning away with a growled, “She made it halfway down. The familiars couldn’t carry her the full way.”

“The familiars?” Nero blinked, taking in all of your new tattoos with even more shock as he settled your limp body more steadily, “What the...hey!” He protested when Vergil started walking back to the edge, the sound of his footsteps sounding as he followed behind, “Wait a goddamn second!”

Vergil didn’t slow, eager to get away and back on task. No more distractions. But Nero had other plans, one of his ghost-arms whipping out to grab Vergil by the shoulder, forcing him to halt in place. The older male turned, face conveying a barely-veiled threat as his firey gaze met Nero’s. The boy wasn’t fazed by his anger in the slightest bit, which was either courageous or absolutely foolish on his part. He was certainly a lot like Dante. Vergil’s other hand twitched, resisting the urge to summon the Yamato and whack at his wrist with the sheath--remind him of who took his old arm to begin with.

Nero’s eyes were sharp, staring him down with intensity as he held you firmly in his arms. Vergil tried to focus on his face instead of yours. He was speaking, after all.

“You remember her, don’t you?” It was just too bad that what Nero was saying turned out to be exactly the conversation he didn’t want to have. Vergil felt his hand twitch again, resisting the urge to just fight again so he could move the topic onto something else, or at least distract Nero long enough to make his way back to the portal.

“...Get her back to the van,” He replied coldly, turning his eyes forward again as he continued, “I have things to do, and no time to waste on this.”

Nero scoffed, hand still firmly clamped on his arm as he replied, “Yeah? Yet you took the time to bring her up to me, could have left her behind. I could have seen her on my way down, but you didn’t want to take the chance did y--”

Vergil let out a low growl, summoning the Yamato and whipping its sheath around at Nero. It startled the boy enough to let go, using that arm to block the blow as he leapt back with you in his arms. The movement barely jostled you, your head resting calmly against his shoulder and eyes still closed. Vergil spared that one last glance, loathing the feeling that the sight of you brought before he turned away, starting forward again with purposeful footsteps. This had wasted time he should have spent focusing on his task, and that alone spoke volumes to how messed up his head had to be. Before all of this, he would have sailed right by you on that ledge, without a single care. But…

Those times were gone.

Nero let out an annoyed growl as he walked, rasping under his breath, “You really are a bastard, you know that?” He straightened up, glaring holes into Vergil’s back as he made his way for the edge again, “She really cared about V, and you’re just gonna walk away from all of that?”

Vergil paused again, tips of his demonic feet touching the very edge of the precipice. Something about Nero’s words made him...irritated. Hearing that name, “V”, and hearing about how much you cared. It didn’t feel right, but it didn’t feel wrong either. All it served to do was kick up that nagging guilt again, the one that made that part of his chest ache incessantly. His teeth grouns slightly, the sensation strange in this form that was so far from human. It wasn’t like him, so different from how he was before that he didn’t know how to process who he was becoming. To focus on anything but the tasks at hand was so out of character, shocking to even he, the one who prided himself on his focus.

“There is nothing to walk away from,” He said coldly, not sparing a glance back as his hand clenched into a fist, “Her feelings for a man that doesn’t exist anymore have nothing to do with me.”

With that, he took a step off the edge, hearing Nero growl in annoyance as he did so. The rush of air past his body felt a lot less soothing now, the roar filling his ears as his wings unfurled to glide him back down. That ache refused to leave, no matter how much distance he put between himself and you. It felt like something was pushing forward on his consciousness, loud and furious about the blatant lie he had told Nero about you. It urged him to turn around, to make sure you got to your destination safe. Apologize. It made him want to punch the nearest object, which if he played his cards right would soon be Dante waiting down below.

 _Don’t leave her again_ , That voice in the back of his head whispered, _Look how much damage I caused. Fix it. You have to fix this._

He couldn’t turn around. There was so much to do, so many things to fix and a tree to cut down. He continued downward, trying to ignore that sensation looming over him like a persistent rain cloud. Like hands trying to pull him back, following him down as the portal loomed ever closer. Crackling, glowing purple and glowing with demonic energy. Focus, he needed to keep his eyes on the task. He would join in his brother in hell, setting about destroying the roots of the Qliphoth and dealing the portal to hell. But after that…

After that, he would be forced to address these new, persistent thoughts.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Nico and Nero generally stick around Redgrave to kill demons but I don't feel like writing that, so fuck it

_Chapter 28_

_(Your POV)_

If someone were to ask you how long you slept, there was no way you could answer them.

Time was not a part of your life in those moments, mind lost to a fog of exhaustion and pain. You were barely aware of anything, everything mostly blank while your body desperately tried to piece together what had been so carelessly damaged. You had truly done a number on yourself, hadn’t you? You limbs were like jelly but heavy enough to be lead weights, chest hurting and stomach feeling like you had swallowed glass as it was working its way out through your throat. Even unconscious, you couldn’t escape the agony of it all. Just the thoughts and emotions, if only for a short time. Sleep was bliss, as close to non-existence as you could get in that moment. It was a blessing that you didn’t dream, for you feared it would only be of the one you lost.

_Dreaming of him would hurt far more than anything._

Sometimes reality flickered in and out of focus. You could register the sound of Griffon talking once or twice through the haze, but were unable to discern what he spoke of. Just small things, like movement, being touched, warmth against your side. Quiet comforts, reminders that you weren’t alone. There were people protecting you, taking care of you when you needed it most. And that...felt strange. Like you were undeserving, but that selfish side of you refused to let go of the comfort it provided. Your mind stayed in the sleeping state, scrambling to repair you and calm the Void powers down a bit. What else could you do other than that? You had run yourself so ragged that the choice was no longer yours to make.

You consciousness waned some more, dipping its toes into waking for a few seconds of a time. Like you were floating in an ocean and skimming the glassy, clear surface just a bit. Everything sounded muffled and far away, drowned in the exhaustion pressing you down into the inky abyss of rest. But you made some things out, like the feeling of being held in someone’s arms.  You were being carried, body jostled by their movements. Air was rushing past you--were they running or flying? You couldn’t make out who it was, they didn’t feel like the arms of Nightmare. They were far more normal, their body hard, firm, and warm. Like laying against a heater.

You drifted back into rest, unable to pull your eyes open long enough to find out who was carrying you. The cycle continued, body floating in and out, skimming the surface of waking before plunging back in. You heard muffled voices, sounding like they were underwater and completely impossible to understand minus the fact that you were pretty sure someone was yelling at one point or another. A new set of arms held you now--at least you think they were new? It was so hard to tell. More movement, more jostling came next with silence following close behind. The voices were gone, but you were still being cradled in gentle arms with more air rushing past.

It was then that you finally managed to pull your head above water, the gusting wind shaking you awake more than you thought it could. Your body came back in bits and pieces, the pain sharpening to a hollow point in your stomach and head first. Your limbs came next, the sensation traveling down to your toes and fingertips before you could even contemplate opening your eyes. You regretted waking, whimpering when the memories of the days events hit harder than even the pain did. 

You had half hoped it was just some terrible nightmare, and that you would wake up in V’s arms still in the chapel with some molecule of hope left. But...that was not reality. You could feel the familiars resting inside you, their consciousness quiet and subdued with how much work they put in. You didn’t want to bother them with your own emotions, not when they had been through so much.

Whoever was carrying you heard the sound of distress you made, holding you a little more steadily as the air continued moving past. You registered the sound of what seemed to be flapping wings, the body holding you feeling hard and warm as well. A voice rumbled from above, warped and demonic but still...familiar to you.

“Just hold on, kid,” That had to be Nero’s voice, despite how strange and distorted it sounded, “We’re almost there. It’ll be okay.”

You shifted a little, prying open your aching eyes and blinking at the dying light of the day. The sky was darker now, casting an orange hue on...was that Nero carrying you? When your gaze slid upwards, you felt yourself quietly processing this form the Devil Hunter was in--he looked like a glorified demon, body a different color and hair long and white. He didn’t look like himself at all, down to the clear blue wings beating steadily behind him to keep you both in the air. But you supposed he was there in that jawline, in the way his brow furrowed over those demonic, glowing eyes. You didn’t know what to make of it, head already fried from everything else that had happened during the day. So...you found yourself unfazed, just taking things as they were in that moment.

“Nero?” You whispered hoarsely, throat feeling dry and raw at the same time. The instant you spoke Nero’s gaze flickered down to you, surprise in his face when he saw your tired eyes staring up at him.

“Hey kid--Sorry if I woke you,” He replied awkwardly, the wind sending his longer locks whipping back slightly as he settled his gaze forward again, “Getting used to the whole flying thing--just go back to sleep and I’ll get us to the van just fine.”

You didn’t want to rest again yet, there was a lot you wanted to know and say. You tilted your gaze slowly to the side, seeing the tops of broken buildings drift past with the tree left behind over Nero’s shoulder. It looked ominous in the dying light of the sun, illuminated by the orange glow and casting craggly shadows onto the land. But...the tree also looked like it was dying, the roots long gone and losing color fast. Like a husk filling up the sky, ready to be cut down at a moments notice.

You closed your eyes, struggling to cope with everything that tree contained within. Every terrible memory, every tragedy. To finally be free of it, in open air and heading somewhere else...it felt strange. Where would you go after this? The unknown was all you had now, the uncertainty for the future that made your stomach swirl sickly again. There was no returning to the Void, no going to a new dimension with how things had occurred with the Deity. So...what were you supposed to do?

“Rocking a new look?” You commented weakly, trying to distract yourself from the growing need to cry, “I dig the long hair.”

Nero snorted, shaking his head lightly as he replied, “It’s news to me too. Guess I had a demonic ability in me just waiting to be used all this time,” His eyes flickered downward again, probably examining your face for any sign of distress. You knew what he saw--an expression of defeat, absolute exhaustion making your eyelids droop, “You should get more rest. I promise to tell you all about the new form later.”

_No rest, you cannot rest. You have to cope._

“I bet Kyrie will like it,” You murmured, ignoring his persisting that you sleep and drifting your gaze off to the side again in an attempt to fight off the unconsciousness, “Chicks...like long hair.”

Nero let out a light sigh at your stubborn refusal, eyes scanning the horizon and probably looking for Nico’s van, “It’ll definitely be a big shock for her, among other things. But she’s always been super supportive, so I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Kyrie sounded like a really wonderful women--you were glad Nero had her in his life.

You smiled softly, the action taking on a sad edge as you struggled to keep open your eyes, “She sounds...great...really nice…” Your words sounded a bit slurred, mouth unable to keep up with your thoughts. No sleep, you refused to sleep yet, “I...I want…”

“Kid,” Nero said in exasperation, putting his clawed hand over your eyes in an attempt to coax you into resting, “Just take it easy, alright? You’re fading in and out, just let it happen and go back to sleep.”

Your vision was dark with his hand there, body struggling to fight the sensation of that black ocean trying to consume you again. Your breath hitched in your throat, tears threatening to bubble up as you fought more and more. You couldn’t rest, now with this uncertainty looming on the horizon. What were you supposed to do now? There was nothing left, everything that you knew and grew accustomed to was drifting away like ashes on the wind. The Deity had betrayed your trust, V had betrayed your trust, and now...all that remained was Nero and the others. How were you supposed to expect anything from them, after everything that had happened?

_Don’t let this take more of you, there are no more pieces left to give._

The familiars started stirring lightly when they sensed your distress, Griffon’s voice sounding quiet and distant as it traveled through your skull.

_“Toots?”_

You swallowed hard, ignoring him and the others as you struggled to keep down tears. There had been no time to grieve before, to come to terms with the fact that you would never be held by V again. No more hearing his gentle voice read poetry, seeing that crooked smile and the way his ebony hair hung in front of his eyes. No more soft kisses, hand holding, sharing a tender embrace and trusting each other. And that was what became the most crushing of all, finally accepting the fact that all you had now were those memories. And they would never be enough.

“I...I can’t rest,” You whimpered softly, shoulders starting to shake as a few tears dripped out from under Nero’s hands, “I...I don’t know what to do now. My Deity betrayed me...V betrayed me...where do I go now? Everything is...gone.”

_V is gone. And I’ll never get to see him again._

_What am I supposed to do?_

The familiars were the only solid thing you had left, the only saving grace in the swirling chaos that had become your life. If all else failed, they would not leave you. They made that loud and clear, their support curling around your tattered mind like glue trying to hold together fragile pieces. You heard Nero suck in a breath at your words, hand moving up to rest on your forehead as a few more stray tears dripped out from your eyes. You looked up at his face, meeting his demonic eyes as you struggled to stomp down on the turmoil cracking through your barriers. He looked...sad, guilty, worried about you as he lifted his gaze back to the horizon line.

“We’re going home,” He replied simply, a small smile curling up his lips as he added quietly to you, “You’re in luck, Kyrie is a great cook and she always makes wayyy too much food. She wants to meet you pretty badly, I talked to her on the phone and okayed everything with her first.”

That made you blink in surprise, staring with wide, teary eyes at the demon hunter as he shifted his gaze down to meet yours again. He had told Kyrie about you? When? And whatever he told her made his fiance want to meet you, this mystery woman that Nero spoke so highly of. Something about his words made your chest ache, sobs threatening to burst out as the sensation of wanting to return home grew and grew until you felt like you might burst from it. Only now...home seemed like it was a real place, a destination instead of an idea.

And that....you were not used to.

“It’ll be alright,” Nero continued firmly, mouth quirking into a half smile that was warmer than the sun dipping over the coast, “Promise. We’re gonna go home, and things will work out. When Kyrie gets her mind set on shit, she finds a way to make them happen--not to mention Nico talking her ear off about it. We could definitely use the extra help keeping the orphanage running.”

_Home._

Your eyelids fluttered shut, more tears tracking down your cheeks and lost on the wind whipping by you. You wanted it so badly, to return home finally after all these years of existing in the Void, drifting from place to place leaving pieces of yourself behind. The Void had never been your home, not really. It had been your place of power, of awakening. But it was never provided a sense of calmness, or joy. You could never return to the Void to relax and unwind, to be around people that made you smile or laugh. All that remained there was the dark, the cold, the howling voices and the Deity himself. And before all of this...that had been enough, having a guiding force that was your closest thing to a father even after living your human life. Knowing that you were alive...it had been all you needed.

But not anymore. You had tasted happiness, and became addicted to it. How many times before did this same thing happen, you finding your joy to only have it be crushed and eventually erased when you fell to pieces? Those faint, whispering pieces of memory left behind from those times you lived before told only small pieces of those tales, providing nothing but lost emotions. You wanted the solidity of reality again, of memories you could make without having them ripped away. It was why you were willing to keep them, those moments with V that now only served to hurt you. They ached, weighing down your mind like icy chains. But you welcomed them.

Because in that moment, the deep, aching agony was better than that thorough nothingness that was the alternative.

“O...okay…” You mumbled exhaustedly to Nero, voice small and barely there as your body relaxed. Floating on the pool of sleep, ready to let yourself sink back in again, “But...Nero?”

You were fading fast, barely feeling as Nero landed somewhere, turning back into his normal self in a shift of his body. You felt the familiar fabric of his jacket under your cheek, the warmth faded to a dull sensation.

“Yeah?” Nero replied, starting forward and barely jostling you with his careful steps, “What is it kid?”

You let out a soft sound, trying to gather your thoughts as they swirled on the water’s glassy surface. There was a lot you wanted to say, but there was something in particular that was bothering you that everything was said and done.

“...Pretty sure I had sex with your dad.” You mumbled, the words feeling strange on your tongue despite their technical truth. It was odd to think that V was, in a way, Nero’s parent. He was so young, close to Nero in age...a reflection maybe on how much Vergil had neglected his own humanity. V had been weak, frail, driven only by his need to return to his former self over anything else. But...he was also charming, kind, vulnerable. A bit silly, humorous and a show off like the other two males. You had no idea if that remained inside of Vergil, or if he was repressing it so heavily that no trace of it could come through. It didn’t really matter anymore, did it?

Nero paused at your words, stumbling maybe. You couldn’t really tell. There was no way that you could pry your eyes open again to look at his face.

“...Yeah, yeah you did,” Nero finally said with a rueful click of his tongue, voice edging on the side of sympathy. And awkwardness, “I don’t know what to tell you there, kid. Could be argued that you technically didn’t, could say Vergil has no place being considered my fucking father either. But…” He sighed heavily, muttering under his breath, “I don’t know. Shit is such a mess right now.”

That was an understatement. Everything was so convoluted you weren’t sure what to think anymore. But at that moment...you couldn’t begin to care as you sank into the embrace of sleep again, head gently lolling to the side as feelings began to fade from your limbs. Tired, you were so tired. The familiars could sense it, wrapping around your consciousness and gently easing you back into restfulness. Like Shadow was curled around you, Griffon’s wings wrapped around your body, and Nightmare’s arms holding you steady. They were there in the dark, a reminder that you weren’t alone. And that, in those moments of sinking down into the abyss, was enough.

_“We’ve gotcha, girlie. Just let it go and sleep.”_

_We have you._

_We have you._

_All of us do._

Words managed to slip past your lips before you fell back entirely, mumbled and tired. You wouldn’t remember later what you said, but Nero understood just fine.

“Let’s just...go home…” You were tired, so tired. No more pain, no more worrying and agony. Your mind had its hope, and for now its all you would focus on, “It’ll be okay...it’ll…”

But there was no more. For now...you would sleep.

_(Nico POV)_

The mechanic couldn’t remember a time she had been this anxious.

Worry was a close companion as she paced outside the van, her hair a frazzled mess from running her hands through it. She hadn’t know Nero for that long, and you for even less time, but she was so stressed about not knowing about your safety that she couldn’t sit still. She had grown to see Nero as the little brother she never had after these months of working with him for the Order documents, and even more so after helping him and Kyrie when he lost his arm. As for you...you had nobody, and that didn’t sit well with her in the slightest bit. How terrible, to go through all that shit and have nothing to show for it but a sad smile and some loneliness. You were family now too, despite the short time you knew each other.

Nero had given a short explanation to the three girls on what had happened with V and Vergil. About how the poet returned to his former self, leaving you behind to deal with the aftermath. Becoming his father. Christ, what a revelation was that? It was pretty easy to see Nero was a bit sensitive about things regarding his family, it left quite the chip on his shoulder. Nico could respect that, her own father was a deadbeat asshole and she only had an uncle to speak of now in regards to family. Nero had been distraught, on the edge and filled with that anger and distress she  had felt herself once. Then he had left, giving no explanation to where you were or if you were coming back.

Which left the three girls to wait. And hope.

Nico was the only one pacing, Trish sitting in the passenger seat looking tired and a bit guilty while Lady sat in the van’s doorway. She looked visibly unhappy, leaning her head on her hands and staring off into distance. There seemed to be a lot on her mind, but Nico wasn’t sure if it was in regards to Nero or you. Or both. Regardless, all three were sitting in an atmosphere of silence and tense, thick anxiety. Not a lot had been said, because honestly what could any one of them come up with to describe what was going on? This bastard “Vergil” was back, he was Dante’s brother, and Nero’s fucking father--And you had been in love with someone who was apparently a part of him.

“M...maybe we should go back and look for them?” Lady suggested after the silence stretched into the setting sun, shadows cast over the ground and van where they waited, “It’s been over two hours, maybe something went wrong?”

Nico snorted, stopping in her pacing to look up at the blight that was the Qliphoth in the distance, “Oh somethin’ went wrong alright. Nero’s deadbeat daddy came back, and everything went to shit,” She turned away, scuffing her boot over the ground and kicking up some dust, “And what the fuck is that all about, huh?! Some skinny lookin’ goth comes around and turns out to be some weird byproduct of Dante’s brother? It ain’t right…!”

Truth be told...Nico was angry and disappointed. Not just in V, but in herself as well. She should have noticed something was wrong, shouldn’t have encouraged you to get so close to the poet if things were going to turn out so badly. Might as well have lead you right to a cliff, then shoved you over the side. She didn’t want to imagine what all of this had done to you--such a soft thing, loving easily and caring about everyone around you. Self sacrificing. That made her frown more, running a hand through her hair again as she kicked up more dust. They all played a part in this, not asking questions and just focusing on defeating Urizen over everything else, who just turned out to be a part of Vergil too.

Lady stared at Nico worriedly, sensing all her anger and pent-up emotions pretty easily. And judging by that flicker of regret on her face, she was feeling the same thing.

“We couldn’t have known,” She whispered, tone soft but filled with doubt as she tried to convince herself, “How were we supposed to know what he was, what he would do?”

What he would do to you, to himself. The bastard had used you, of that there was no doubt in Nico’s mind.

“All I’m sayin’ is we could have done better!” Nico snapped in response, leveling her annoyed gaze over the beautiful woman and stomping a foot, “God damn it, we could have tried! Could have cornered him and made him talk!”

They could have taken everything more seriously from the start. Your little crush seemed so innocent at first, like seeing two confused teenagers stumbling about their attractions for the first time. But...it got serious, especially when it was revealed that V was dying. You were so stressed and distraught, but there was just no time to do anything about it. No time to talk, to plan, to wait. Everything felt like it had taken weeks, but only a few days had passed after all.

“He wouldn’t have talked,” Trish said from the open window with a low scoff, making both women turn to look at her. She had her arms folded, sharp eyes staring straight ahead as she continued, “Vergil was a stubborn bastard. V never would have told you, but...he told me.”

“You knew?!” Nico’s eyebrows arched toward her hairline before snapping back down, anger taking up her expression as she stomped up to the window, “Why the fuck didn’t you tell her?!”

“Because V told me not to…!” Trish said sharply back, turning a burning glare on the mechanic that was filled with several warnings. But try as she did to hide it, the woman saw guilt in her eyes too, “He was dying, and I didn’t know anything about her. I didn’t think it mattered, she was the servant of a god so I didn’t think she was here for anything else but to do its bidding.”

Nico ground her teeth, her own warnings in her tone as she replied, “She was in love with him, you dumbass! She suffered enough, and you just let it get worse…!”

_“You think I don’t know that?!”_

_“Enough!”_ Lady yelled, making both women jump and turn around to look at her. She seemed visibly angry now, multi-color eyes staring at them both as she was now standing outside the van. There was distress in that gaze, the deep shadows cast on her face from the dying sun only seemed to add her her grieving look, “This isn’t the time to argue about what we could or couldn’t have done! Even if she would have known, what would it have fixed?”

Lady sighed, walking up to Nico and sliding down to the ground next to the van. The look she wore made the mechanic feel guilty--christ, she looked tired and dejected. More so than Nico had ever seen her as she whispered, “We couldn’t do anything, not to help her or Nero.”

She was right, of course she was. They had been fairly useless in the whole conflict, forced to watch from the sidelines as everything fell to pieces. Nico let out a light sigh, exchanging a look with Trish before she too slid down the van, sitting next to the older woman with a light huff. That’s where all the anger came from, wasn’t it? This thorough feeling of helplessness, the reality that there would have been no way to save either of you from the pain. Nero would have learned eventually, wasting so much time trying to prove himself only to learn the man he was trying to kill was his father. And you...even if they had tried to talk you out of loving V, it still would have happened.

There wasn’t a thing that they could do.

“We can still do better now,” Lady murmured, tapping her fingers on her thigh and staring up at the darkening sigh, “They’re going to need us when they comes back, they’re going to need support.”

Boy, that was the biggest understatement of the century. And that was if you actually did come back. The mechanic wasn’t going to voice that fear aloud, though.

Nico puffed out a breath, tilting her head back and running a sidelong glance over the black-haired woman, “You got that right,” She snorted, scratching the back of her own dark hair as she added, “Shoot, Lady. You’re a good person, how the hell did you end up in this profession?”

Lady let out a small, sad sigh, eyes trailing down to the ground. It seemed like there was a long story hidden behind her eyes, one that she didn’t seem fond of recalling. Damn, were all devil hunters hiding some terrible past? People like Trish, Dante, and Lady--It seemed like they all shared some bad life experiences that drove them forward. Nico’s life wasn’t a cakewalk either, but she at least had happy moments. Her mother loved her before she died, and Nico’s uncle treated her well and took good care of everything. Hell, even being lucky enough to get close to Kyrie and Nero, to become a part of their family...those things were all blessings, but she would never admit it out loud.

“It’s a long story,” Laid quietly, jarring Nico from her roaming thoughts, “One that’s too long to tell. Unfortunately being kind doesn’t save you from bad things happening--just look at Dante. Being nice to people never saved him from tragedy.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Nico grunted in reply, pulling out a cigarette and patting her pockets for a lighter, “Guess all we can do now is wait for the psycho to get back, and maybe then we can go look for Y/N.”

Lady smiled a tiny smile, turning her head away and looking at the orange-splashed clouds as she replied, “Then we wait. In the meantime, why don’t we--”

“ _Hey_! Are you guys in there?!”

All three women jolted sharply at the sound of Nero’s voice calling from beyond the other side of the van. Speak of the goddamn devil and he will--luckily--appear. He had come back, and from the sound of it he was healthy and alive. Any and all thoughts halted, each girl scrambling quickly around the van to see the white haired boy approaching from down the street, the Qliphoth a distant memory far behind him. Seeing him was a huge relief, one that made all the air leave Nico’s lungs at once. And an added, blissful bonus was the sight of you being carried in his arms. You hadn’t left, you were safe too. Nico could have collapsed with the stress leaving her body, but it was replaced with so many questions as she stared at both you and Nero.

First being that you now had tattoos lining your arms, from your fingertips dipping past your sleeves.They looked like the ones V had before, down to the black streak in your hair now. Nico rushed forward, worry filling her expression as she and the other two women now took in your sickly pallor, dark circles under your eyes and scratches on your face and neck. You looked like hell and then some, which wasn’t very comforting for the whole situation. You were unconscious, cheeks still slightly wet with tears that still glistened from your closed lashes. Crying, and not that long ago too.

Last thing Nico noticed was the fact that Nero was carrying you, which wouldn’t have been so god damn jarring if it weren’t for the fact that he wore no Devil Breaker. His right arm, which up until that day had been bearing one of her metal pieces of art, was _fucking normal_ \--Not a demonic arm like before, but a _real, genuine human one_. Fresh and bare of hair, like it popped out baby soft just moments earlier like a fucking daisy.

What the fuck. _What the fuck._

“Is she okay?” Lady asked anxiously, hurrying forward while Nico tried to shake off the layers of shock she was feeling. The older woman stroked back your hair, eyes traveling over your limp form with a motherly gaze, “What happened to her?”

You look like you had been hit by a god damn truck, like all the life had drained out of you. Closer to a corpse than anything else--all traces of your healthy skin and happy smile seemed far off from how you were now.

“A lot,” Nico grunted, pushing past the three women and heading for the van behind them, “Is the couch cleared off? Gotta set her down.”

“It is,” Trish replied, sounding the calmest of the trio as she followed behind, her eyes lingering on those fancy new tattoos as she added, “Want me to take her?”

“I’ve got it.”

Nero stepped up into the van, easily turning and laying your body down on the leather upholstery as gingerly as he could. You didn’t bat an eyelash, head lolling around limply and body settling without waking up at all. Trish, Lady, and Nico all piled into the van as well, the mechanic closing the door with a solid thunk and rushing over to push past Nero so she could look at you again. It was easy to tell that the days events had taken a lot out of you, that was for sure. She resisted the urge to card her fingers through your hair, instead settling on pulling out a pillow to rest under your head.

Nero sighed in relief, settling in the seat across from you and leaning his head back. He looked like shit too, shirt torn and spattered with blood in places. His jacket was covered in holes and slices, which would probably have to be mended later by Kyrie. What the hell had he done while at the top of the tree, gotten into a fight with a paper shredder? But his wounds were already healing, all the way down to that bright, shiny new human arm he was sporting.

“What the fuck happened?!” Nico blurted out finally, all her pent up questions bursting forth as she pointed a finger at him, _“What the hell is that god damn arm?!_ How the hell do you have your arm back?!”

Nero blinked, head tilting back down as he grunted in annoyance, “Can’t it wait? Get us on the goddamn road, I don’t want to see that tree again.”

They were already leaving? There was no sign of the other devil hunter though, nor was there any sign of this supposed “Vergil” everyone had been talking about. But the mechanic could read Nero’s mood pretty easily--he was still on edge from his newfound knowledge, jaw tight and eyes staring at the ceiling like he could somehow will the anger away by force. Now was not the time to press for questions, as much as she wanted too. Nero had been through enough for the day.

 _“What?_ ” Trish protested, shock lacing her tone as Nico groaned and hurried to get behind the wheel, “What about Dante? Where is he?”

Nero let out a heavy, aggravated sigh, running his fingers through his messy white hair as he replied in a snarl, “The dumbass went down to hell with Vergil to clear the fucking tree roots and seal the portal.”

 _“Are you serious?_ ” Trish hissed, eyes narrowing as she stared down the younger male and crossed her arms. Despite her obvious anger, there was worry and disappointment hidden underneath all of it. Dante was a friend to her, that much was obvious. And this knowledge was definitely not welcome considering all that had happened.

Lady sat down by your head, careful not to move you as she added softly, “But they won’t be able to come back.”

“You see my issue here.”

Nico felt like she was turning in fucking circles--where was she supposed to start? First, they find out Nero had a daddy, then that V was a part of said daddy. Then everything with you, Nero’s new arm, and now that the two brothers would be trapping themselves in hell to cut down the tree? It was complete madness, way too many events pressed into one day to ever make sense. To gain a family in a day, then to watch them both leave to complete a dangerous, ridiculous task such as this one? No wonder he looked so pissed off, even Nero had limits to how much he could take in one sitting.

So the mechanic ground her teeth together, obeying his wishes and starting the van to leave. It sputtered to life, engine rumbling the vehicle. She wanted nothing more than to leave Redgrave for a sizeable time period, gather their thoughts and regroup a little bit. Dante and Vergil would be on their own to fix this shit, which was fair considering the goddamn bastard father had caused the whole thing. It was better that he hadn’t arrived back with Nero--He would have gotten a solid punch to the throat if Nico had anything to say about it.

“What happened to her?” Lady asked again, Nico seeing her stroke your hair again in the rearview mirror as she drove you all down the street. Despite all the clanging from riding on a bumpy road, you didn’t twitch once. Your clothes looked a bit messed up too, like you had wrestled with a demon before finding your way there. But the gauntlet Nico made you was still on your arm. The mechanic made a mental note to take it off so you could rest more comfortably.

Trish sat by your feet, frowning heavily as she looked over you with concerned eyes, “She looks…”

“I know,” Nero muttered, eyes closing as he leaned on his arm. There seemed to be another memory of the guilt and regret party, if his face was any indication of what he felt, “She watched all the shit go down with V, and she just...lost it. Pushed herself way too hard, broke her body over it.”

Lady’s shoulders visibly slumped at his words, her gaze lingering on you as she slid your upper half onto her lap, cradling your head gently against her stomach. You barely gave any indication that you sensed being moved, other than a soft sound that came from your parted lips. That was a sound of pain, a barely there whimper that was a pretty clear indication of what you were feeling. Nico quickly looked away, heart feeling achy as she tried to focus on the road instead. This wasn’t the time to feel bad or guilty, getting you the hell out of the city and home was more important.

“Why does she got those tattoos?” Nico asked from the driver’s seat, tone sharp and impatient as she met Nero’s gaze in the mirror, “They look like the shit the goth had on him when we saw him last.”

Nero opened his mouth to reply, but something cut him off.

Black dust suddenly materialized from your form, swirling up and taking form on top of her jukebox. Everyone recognized the creature immediately, even before his strange beak and sapphire feathers had even materialized. Griffon, Nico recalled, the bird-brained familiar that belonged to V. He balanced on his talons, shaking out his feathers and puffing up like an irritable cat. He looked tired too, head drooping and eyes half closed as he met everyone’s surprised gaze, an expression close to contempt shifting his avian features.

His presence said everything she needed to know, even before he opened his dumb, bird mouth. When he left the tattoos on one side of you lightened, just like V’s did when they left him.

“She’s got them because of us,” He hissed, narrowing his golden eyes on Nero as he added, “And shit is a lot more fucked than you know about, kid.”

Trish stood, standing in front of you in a protective manner, clearly distrusting of this bird. Nico could understand why--this creature belonged to V, who was a part of Vergil now. By all accounts, they had no reason to be friendly with him at all.

Nero scowled, glowering at the creature with disgust as he replied, “Wish I could say I’m happy to see you, chicken. But I’m not,” He crossed his arms, eyes narrowing at the bird as he added, “What the hell are you doing here? Thought V was your master, why didn’t you go back when he did?”

Nico was wondering that as well. The bird and cat seemed devoted to V, following his every command and sticking to him like glue. Seeing them devoid of him felt...strange.

Griffon let out a low trill, shaking out his feathers again as he huffed in reply, “The feeling is mutual, brat. And for your information, Vergil didn’t want me and the others back--we’re his nightmares after all,” He settled more firmly on the jukebox, tone irritable with exhaustion as he added, “Besides, we have a new master now. I’ll give your little pea-sized human brain a few guesses as to who it is.”

All three sets of human eyes landed on you, staring at your new tattoos and easily realizing what he meant. It was incredibly obvious, it took no thought at all.

“Ding ding!” Griffon squawked in confirmation, a low, harsh chuckle leaving him as he added, “We serve Y/N now, and we’re all happy with the arrangement. So don’t fucking ask.”

Nico let out an annoyed sound, but she knew you. It was obvious how close you were to the familiars when the goth was around, always snuggling up to them and smiling so happily when they returned affection back. It was relieving to see that you retained something good in the end, at the very least. Griffon seemed crass and rude, but he was staring at you with worry too. He bowed his head abit, looking away when Nero glanced over at him warily. It was easy to see the bird was growing uncomfortable with so much attention on him, especially considering everyone in the vehicle didn’t feel particularly fuzzy toward demons.

Griffon cleared his throat, letting out a long suffering sigh as he flickered his eyes back over to your sleeping form, tone gruff as he said, “I know we’re a package deal now, but don’t let that stop you from helping her. Hell, we can stay in her twenty four seven if you have an issue, won’t hear a peep from me,” He looked back at Nero, tone reluctant and golden eyes serious for once, “We ain’t got no gripe with you, and we can behave provided none of you stab her in the back.”

Nero blinked, seeming surprised by Griffon’s gruff words of truce as his brow shot toward his hairline. Nico was kind of impressed, and a bit...guilty. She spent a lot of time giving Griffon shit and picking on him, but she could tell he cared about you a lot. To swallow his pride, bow his head, and prepare himself to remain submissive in the face of others on your behalf was admirable.

And Nero seemed to agree.

“Glad we understand each other, chicken,” Nero smirked, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, “As long as you don’t have an issue with kids, and you’re nice to my wife I don’t give a shit if you come out.”

Griffon let out a snort, squawking in response, “I won’t be pecking any little brats, I can promise you that. I don’t have any gripes with your lady either, so me and the other familiars will be on our _best_ behavior.”

He looked at you with his words, seeming relieved that things had worked out and there was no chance of you being denied a safe place because of them. Honestly Nico didn’t know why he was worried--familiars or not, you were still going home with them. Your body was relaxing considerably with Lady stroking your hair, her fingers dancing along your lashes to remove the remaining tears. You leaned your head to the side, pressing your face to her stomach and letting out a soft sigh. Any and all comfort for you was good--Nico would be right there with you too if she didn’t have to drive.

Nero stretched out his legs, eyes lingering on you as you continued to sleep on the couch. Nico hoped to god that resting was at least doing something to help you, because she honestly didn’t know what more could be done. Where your powers, body, and Deity were concerned they were all ignorant. Hell, the whole situation was rendering them all pretty useless in terms of healing and helping you. But Nico would take what she could get, she had always been a quick thinker and capable of planning at a moment’s notice. And like those other times, her mind was already in processing mode.

_Think. Focus on the now, worry on everything later._

“Hey chicken,” She called back to the bird, keeping her tone civil despite that nickname she used for him, “Anything you can tell us about Y/N that might help? She ain’t lookin’ too hot.”

The bird let out a low trill, rustling his feather again as he huffed, “If you’ve got anything that provides nutrition and shit like that without shoving it down her throat, use it. She’s running on fumes and we ain’t doin’ much.”

That was definitely somewhere to start.

“In my chest in the back,” Nico said to Lady, sparing a brief look at the road to point, “I keep first aid and shit in there. I’ve got needles and some stuff that you can inject in a little blue bottle.”

“I’ve got it.” Trish grunted, noting probably how Lady was still holding you in her lap--it was probably wise not to jostle you too much. The blond woman turned, heading to the back of the van and trying to keep herself steady while it swayed and bumped around. Seeming satisfied, Griffon turned back into dust, swirling around and absorbing back into your tattoos again. From Nico’s point of view, it seemed like Griffon was running on empty too, only popping out long enough to say his piece and retreat back. Making sure you got the help you needed. You weren’t bothered at all by him coming and going, in fact it seemed like you didn’t notice at all.  

Nico focused back on the road, trying to pull herself together with everything that was going on. Dusk was now in full swing, forcing her to turn on the van’s headlights as they passed building after broken building. What an awful day, what terrible things to have happen over and over.

Two people she considered friends had suffered badly, and for what? Some bastard to end up getting everything that he wanted. The mechanic was trying to hold onto her anger, because she felt like otherwise it would be replaced by tears. Nico didn’t like worrying, nor did she like being afraid. But the day had brought both, forced to watch her new family risk their lives over and over. Now there was only pieces left, but they were safe, right? Nero was safe, so were you. And what little good that did, considering the state you both were in mentally.

Nero hadn’t looked that unhappy and tired since he lost his arm.

“...Let’s go home,” Nico muttered, drawing the boy’s attention as she stared forward, trying to push back the rising need to scream and punch something. Focus on the road, she needed to drive and get them all back safely, right? “Let’s go home, and we’ll...fuck I don’t know. We’ll do better, we’ll _fuckin’ do better.”_

They would move past this.

This didn’t feel like a victory. Things were gained, but too much was lost in the long run. And she hated that. Why couldn’t this have been resolved without conflict? Had Nero’s daddy just fucking talked to Nero, asked for help instead of ripping off his arm, maybe they could have realized who he was? Called Dante, gotten Vergil a doctor or something considering the kid said he seemed to be in bad shape. Had there been any communication, they could have saved you from losing the one you loved, saved Nero from finding out something so heartbreaking before he wasted days trying to kill his own father.

But in the end, all they cared about was the fight. And it screwed up everything.

Nero appeared at her side, footsteps quiet as he sat down next to her in the passenger seat with a heavy sigh. He could sense she was upset, of that there was no doubt--her hands were gripping the wheel like a wise, knuckles paling with the strain. She could feel him looking at her with concern, but she convinced herself that focusing on not crashing was more important than meeting his gaze. In the past few months she had got closer to Nero and Kyrie then she had planned, and ended up fitting right in with them and their little ragtag family of orphans. It had been a while since she was this worried about someone, and to be honest she was still mad he just jumped out the van like he did and left her to worry and wonder what happened to him and you.

He could tell, that much was sure. Nero scratched the back of his head, other hand reaching into his pocket and pulling out a lighter to place on the dashboard for her.

“Sorry...Thanks for stickin’ around,” Nero muttered, sounding a bit awkward as he stared out the windshield at the road ahead, “Things have been rough, but...they’ll work out. And you’re right, by the way.”

Nico snorted lightly, shaking her head and pulling out a cigarette as she replied in her usual drawl, “I usually am. What am I right about this time?”

Nero smirked lightly, grabbing the lighter from where it was resting. Nico paused, looking back at you and Lady sitting on the couch for a moment. She remembered the face you made when she smoked in front of you last, that expression of quiet, restrained discomfort and a hint of sadness. After one exchanged look with the Devil hunter, Nico shook her head again, tossing the cigarette onto the dashboard for it to sit and wait till later.

“You were sayin’?”  She prompted Nero, trying to shake off some of the fatigue and focus back on the crumbling streets ahead.

He let out a low grunt, flexing his new, baby-soft fingers before pulling a book out of his coat. She recognized it immediately as the book V had before, the one he was always reading from. When had he gotten the thing? It worried her, she was afraid of how you would react if your eyes caught sight of such a heavy reminder. Nero set it on his lap, tapping his free hand on it like he wasn’t sure what to make tp do with the leather-bound novel.

“We will do better,” He said finally, tossing the lighter back and relaxing in the passenger seat. His grey-blue eyes stared ahead, filled with calm determination and regret as the sun began to die in the distance. Leaving only night, and the moon coaxing its milky light up toward the sky, “We made it out safe, and for now we take the victories were we get them.”

The little victories. No one had died, technically if they weren’t counting V, which she wasn’t. Nero seemed to have his arm back, and she was sure he would explain in time. As for you...there was a home and a warm bed waiting in Fortuna, and Kyrie. If anyone could provide some sense of comfort and ease, it was her. The woman had such a healing, kind aura about her--wasn’t a soul she couldn’t fix. And that was exactly what you needed, someone who could help fix what the poet broke.

Nico always wanted a sister. Especially when she was a little kid, it was her favorite thing to imagine and think about. Never a possibility then, but she learned to take family where she could get it. Blood or no blood. Kyrie was like family, but she felt more like an older sister or a mother. Now that Nico had someone to consider a little sister, she would damn well make sure you would bounce back stronger and better than ever.

“What say you we stop for some breakfast once we clear the barriers outside of RedGrave?” Nero commented after a loud yawn, breaking the silence with some of the most normal words Nico had heard in days, “I’m willin’ to bet Y/N hasn’t tried Jack’s pancakes yet, and it would take more than the apocalypse to shut that bastard down.”

Nico chuckled lightly. Only Nero could come out of something like this and immediately think of breakfast, “Whatever you want, lil’ brother. Just as long as you’re payin’.”

“Figures.”


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so delayed. The chapter is long and I battled my laptop, my parents, my health, and god himself to get it done.

_Chapter 29_

You didn't dream for the entirety of your rest.

As before, you had no conception of time. But this time, you weren’t hovering in and out, instead lingering in a deep sleep state without straying from it. Your body needed the time to heal, to regain what it lost and repair the damage. And it had seemingly gotten its chance. There was no doubt that Nero had kept to his word, safety being found and allowing you to finally begin the process of gaining back your strength. Seconds, minutes, or days could have passed beyond your knowledge, but it scarcely mattered. Oblivion was a welcome thing after all the pain, allowing you to escape from thinking about the poet and the cold, grey eyes of his fully formed counterpart again.

The Void was strangely quiet after how vocal it had been through the few days of travel. The whispers had gone quiet, no longer clattering around your skull and saying things that only added to the pain. That wasn’t to say that the Void was gone, your power was still swirling in your gut as it always did. Now calm, regaining energy again and no longer fighting you. After all, the mission was done, what more did it have to sense? You weren’t sure you could ever accept the power of the Foresight again after all it had done to hurt you. Like it was being controlled directly by the Deity’s hands, like puppet strings.

That was your first thought upon awakening, only this time you gradually pulled yourself out of the pool of sleep bit by bit. You woke up to significantly less bodily pain, the rippling agony now dulled to aching all through your limbs. Like you had spread yourself way too thin, which was the truth. You registered the smells of tobacco and metal, knowing in an instant just where you were. It was punctuated by the rumbling engine, your body jostled slightly whenever Nico had to swerve to avoid something on the road. It then occurred to you that your head was resting on someone’s lap, a hand rhythmically stroking your hair and cheeks.

 _Warm._ You felt secure for once since V left you, like you were being protected. The familiars only added to the sensation, their energies wrapping around your mind in an attempt to cushion the reality of the situation a bit. They were trying so hard to help you, it almost made you want to cry. They could only do so much once the memories and emotions started coming back, your heart aching far more than your body was. V’s face was fresh in your mind, that final kiss you shared replaying over and over like a film. Why would he bother kissing you if it didn’t matter to him? Why do any of the things he did if there wasn’t emotion involved?

But...did those things matter? V was gone, Vergil was here in his place. And there seemed to be no trace of the poet in him at all save for Vergil remembering the nickname V called you. But the love, the affection...that was long since departed.

You kept your eyes closed for the time being, ears registering quiet conversation between everything in the van. It was your only distraction, the only thing keeping you from falling back into the despairing thoughts.

“Go the fuck to sleep,” Nico was hissing, her voice filled with annoyance as a light whap traveled through the van--she had whacked someone, “Kyrie is gonna murder us both once she figures out how many energy drinks your dumb ass has sucked down in the past week…!”

You heard the sound of a can being crushed, tossed to a small trash bin you knew to be tucked behind Nico’s driver seat. There was a recollection of Nero sitting at a dining room table, surrounded by empty cans of red bull and the words “dead weight” written on his forehead. That was the day you woke up from your punishment, getting drunk with the girls and sharing a bed with V, his body curled behind yours and...and…

_Stop thinking about him._

The familiars seemed to echo the sentiment, feeling your distress and sorrow and growing restless. You felt bad--your emotions and traumas were now their burden too, which you wished wasn’t the case.

“She won’t figure out if you keep your mouth shut,” Nero huffed in reply, pulling you back into reality once more, “Besides. If you pull an all nighter I pull an all nighter.”

“She isn’t stupid, psycho!” Nico groaned in complete, unbridled annoyance, “All it’s gonna take is one look in the fridge and seeing no more energy drinks to tell her just how many was taken.”

Something about their sibling-like banter made you fight a smile, no matter how small that smile would be. It was...relaxing, to hear things so normal in the face of all the absurdities. You preferred it over the silence, their strange worry over Kyrie being upset about the energy drinks so trivial compared to a god damn demon tree. And Nico was right--Nero had consumed for more drinks that could ever been considered healthy. How he hadn’t collapsed with a heart attack by now was a straight up mystery.

You finally allowed yourself to slowly blink open your eyes, staring up at the ceiling of the van in a sort of daze. The vehicle was dark with night, the occasional street light flitting through the windows and casting dancing patterns on the interior. It was easy to guess that you were on the couch, the leather pressed to the bare areas of your legs a little too warmly in cramped space. But you didn’t mind, it was welcome compared to the thorough cold the Void had left within you. After inhaling a deep, measured breath, you decided that your lungs felt normal enough that you didn’t want to go back to sleep again.

It became apparent who was stroking your hair as soon as you tilted your head back. Lady’s beautiful face was staring down at you, a small gasp leaving her when she saw you now looking right back. She looked a bit tired as well, you had to wonder if she had slept at all since you saw her last. How long had you been out? When had Nero made it to the van?

“Look who’s finally awake,” Lady breathed, smiling softly down at you and putting a hand to your forehead, “How are you feeling, sweetie?”

You blinked your eyes a few times, savoring the warmth of her skin on your own as you tried to form a reply to her question.

“Physically?” You whispered softly, voice holding several layers of sorrow in it as you tried to swallow it back, “Or mentally?”

Lady gave you a knowing look, starting to stroke your hair again with a soothing, gentle touch. She felt closer to a mother than anything you had felt before--even amongst the brief wisps of memory you couldn’t recall your own mother ever doing something like this for you. Lady was staring down at you with soft concern and worry, knowing full well just how awful you would be feeling if she had any indication of what happened in the tree. And if Nero was here...she definitely did.

“Let’s start with physically,” She murmured, multi-colored eyes steadily meeting yours, “You were in bad shape when Nero brought you back. How do you feel now?”

You slowly lifted an arm, feeling a soreness in your muscles as you flexed your fingers. You belatedly realized that the gauntlet you wore before was now gone. Someone must have pulled it off of you. To be completely honest, you were further along now than you thought, that was unless you had slept for over a day. Which was doubtful.

“I…” You mumbled, slowly putting your hand back down again as you replied, “I’ve...been better. But...I’m not as bad as I thought I’d be. The pain is mostly gone, just...sore.”

Lady nodded, helping you slowly sit up and bracing you with a hand to your back. You fought a groan, each muscle in your body aching painfully and straining with just that motion. Okay, maybe you weren’t as well off as you thought.

“Griffon came out at some point and told us you needed something to help boost you,” Lady replied, rubbing slow circles on your back, “Nico had something we could inject you with, it seemed to help a bit.”

That made sense at the very least.

You looked to the side, seeing Trish staring at you from the seat across from the couch right as the other two up front noticed you awake over their bantering. She didn’t look tired like the others, but maybe that was because she wasn’t human.

“Holy shit she’s awake!” Nico gasped from up front, making you glance at her next as her head bounced between looking at you and looking at the road. She looked tired and frazzled, more so than normal, “Howdy sugar! Welcome back to the land of the livin’!”

You managed to muster an exhausted smile for her, noting the relief in her tone as you replied softly, “How...long was I out for…?”

“All night,” Nero replied before the mechanic could, peeking his white-haired head around from the passenger side and holding a new can of sugary caffeine, “We got back around seven and it’s about to hit five in the morning now.”

A whole nights rest...it felt strange to think about it. Even resting with V you slept in short bursts broken by nightmares, not having a truly restful sleep in a long time outside of the forced coma the Void caused. Those times when you’re being erased. Thinking about that was a mistake, one that sent a shiver down your spine and a sickly feeling in your stomach. Had all those things really happened? Meeting and traveling with V, losing him, the Deity forcing you to watch then trying to force you back to the Void? They felt so strange, your God’s actions completely foreign and odd to you after serving him for so many years.

Why? Why had he done such a thing? The Deity had given you the rune to aid in the mission, only to force you to watch V get absorbed back into Vergil and unable to do anything about it. And then there was trying to take you back to the Void itself--why had he waited until you were there with Dante and the others? There was a significant span of time where you had traveled up the Qliphoth alone to get there, perfect opportunity to snatch you back with little to no resistance. With how weak you had been, it would have been a cake walk. But the Deity had instead chosen to wait until you were among allies.

But.. _.why?_ It didn’t make sense. Just like how everything with V didn’t seem to make sense either.

Lady seemed to sense your growing distress, her arms wrapping around you from behind and her chin resting on your shoulder. The embrace felt warm, startling you a bit out of the downward spiraling thoughts.

“It’ll be okay,” She said softly, giving you a light squeeze in her attempt to soothe you, “Just breathe for now, we’re all here with you.”

You felt your eyes drift downward, threatening to burn with more tears as you gripped the bottom half of your blouse with tight fingers. You could feel everyone in the van staring at you with varying levels of concern, even Trish who wasn’t as close as the others were. It felt both strange and soothing to have so many people now worrying about your well-being.

 _“Don’t worry, toots,”_ Griffon’s gruff tone added to the show of support, his consciousness rousing from the corners of your head as he squawked, _“Just focus on getting better for now. You feel like you got hit by a fuckin’ truck. Not ideal.”_

“...I know.” You whispered, voice holding every terrible thing you were feeling in that moment as you replied to them both at once. You knew that thinking about it wouldn’t help anything in that moment, not with everything so fresh. It was only serving to keep you down, but you didn’t know what else to do.

Focus on the good things you had, right? There was nothing more to be done, everything wasn’t for naught. Nero, Nico, Lady, and Trish were here. They all cared about you, they wanted to help and were trying their best. You had the familiars now, they were a part of you and a constant, driving force keeping you from falling too deep into that pit of despair. Considering how hard things had been, and all the aching agony you had been through...you didn’t come out the other side alone and afraid like before, all those other missions where you had been abandoned. Their support was so warm, a fresh change of pace that made your heart ache in a way that wasn’t painful.

_But...it didn’t take away the grief that came from losing the man you loved. That you doubted would ever leave you._

The room fell quiet for a moment while you processed your thoughts, trying to find the will to pull yourself back together. So used to being the one to hold things in, keeping your head held high to support others who needed it. But for once...the one who needed it was you. And the others seemed ready to take up that torch.

“Do you like pancakes?” Nero asked suddenly, breaking the silence and making you blink in surprise.

The question was so normal, so out of place that it derailed your train of thought completely for a second. Pancakes?

“Y...yeah…” You replied with a soft stammer, turning to meet his gaze with a confused one of your own, “I suppose I do.”

That seemed to please him, a smirk quirking up his lips as he took a deep chug from a can of energy drink. You half wondered how many he had consumed in the evening alone, it was worrying for his health. And like before, he was bound to crash at some point.

“Fan-fuckin-tastic,” He said after swallowing, turning his gaze to Nico’s face as he added, “Jack’s opens at what, five thirty? Willin’ to bet it won’t be packed being this close to Redgrave.”

Jack’s? The way this conversation had gone confused you, that was for certain, but it seemed to cheer both Nero and Nico up considerably. Your stomach growled lightly at mention of food despite how uneasy you felt upon waking--You hadn’t eaten since V was with you last, and that time seemed so far away. Not to mention snacking on the occasional granola bar and fruit during the day hadn’t done nearly as much for you as you thought it would.

You also realized his mentioned it being outside of Redgrave, which made you look out the window. Eyes blinking, seeing buildings now that weren’t broken and falling to pieces. How bizarre to finally see some semblance of normalcy after days of being around what equated to be the apocalypse. Why didn’t you realize sooner that the tree’s reach only extended so far? This was out of the city, but judging by the barricades and sealed doors this area had been evacuated on the off chance that the roots came out further.

“We’ve already left Redgrave?” you said softly, eyes watching as streetlight after streetlight passed by, the sky already hinting at the sunrise, “But...Where is Dante and…”

For some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to say Vergil’s name. Nor could you shake the worry that came for his well being. How pathetic, that even after everything he did to you that the sensation of wanting him to be safe wouldn’t leave?

_You want to believe that V exists as a part of him, somehow._

It was true. You knew what V had said, the vulnerabilities he had shared and the aching need for affection he had. If that was a part of Vergil, even small...What were you supposed to do? There would never be a chance of the surly male seeking you for anything, even if he shared V’s memories. It was madness. You had to accept that, to finally move past the aching desire to seek out the part of him you had fallen for. Because in reality, it would never be the same--You didn’t fall in love with Vergil, you fell for V. The poet, the one with his lilting voice reading from his book and that determination driving him forward.

_V was gone. No part of that man remained._

_Right?_

“Dante and Vergil stayed behind,” Nero said with an annoyed sigh, turning his gaze away to glare through the windshield. You saw his left hand clenched into a fist, knuckles turning white as he added through gritted teeth, “Goddamn idiots. They went to hell to cut down the tree, and seal the portal it left behind.”

“Thus sealing them in hell.” Trish added, the first she had spoken since you woke up. You met her steady gaze, feeling a bit wary considering that you now knew exactly what type of information she had withheld from you. She knew what V was, knew what was to happen to him. But...you didn’t feel angry with her--What had happened was your own carelessness, not hers.

_I don’t blame you._

But right now...that wasn’t what should be focused on. They had both just told you Dante and Vergil would be sealing themselves in hell, thus implying that they would be trapped. Judging by the furious look they both wore, the situation had definitely become more dire. You started feeling numb as the realization sunk in, mind reeling now that it became all too clear that you may never get the chance to see Vergil ever again. So learning anything more about him, finding out the truth you so desperately ached for...it was never going to happen.

_There would be no closure. None at all._

“They won’t ever be coming back?” You whispered, voice and expression mimicking the numbness settling inside. You didn’t know what to do, how to feel. This didn’t feel good, it wasn’t a relief to know Vergil would not be back in your life to cause more pain.

It shouldn’t have hurt this badly to know that.

Lady squeezed you softly again, tucking your head against her neck as she replied soothingly, “It’s not a guarantee. We just have to wait for now, and see what Dante does. He’s gotten out of worse scenarios.”

You wanted to believe that, wanted to think there was some way of this problem being resolved. But it was hard to find hope for anything. You closed your eyes, trying to gather your thoughts together and stifle the conflicted emotions rolling through your head. Why did you feel this way? Why wouldn’t you just let go, try to move on and clamp down on all the conflicted feelings? Vergil was not the same man you had fallen for, he wasn’t even close. He didn’t care about you, didn’t love you, couldn’t even spare you more than a passing glance and some hurt.

But...you couldn’t let it go.

“Don’t worry about them,” Nero huffed, trying to change the subject as your grew to look more and more crestfallen. He turned around, offering you a comforting half-smile as added, “We’re gonna stop for some food, then haul our asses to Devil May Cry to drop off Lady and Trish.”

You looked at the woman behind you, feeling a little disappointed as you asked, “You’re leaving?”

She smiled softly at you, looking a little sad too as she pressed her head to the side of yours.

“We have to keep the business up and running with Dante gone,” She replied with a sigh, giving you a firm squeeze and kissing your temple in a cute, over-exaggerated way, “Don’t worry. I’ll be stopping by Fortuna to see you first chance I get.”

Fortuna? You blinked, realizing right away that must be where Kyrie and Nero lived. You didn’t know much about the location other than the Order of the Sword stories the devil hunter had mentioned. An island off the coast, where you would be staying with the others now and helping out with the orphanage. You felt a bit nervous, not used to having a place to go, hoping that Kyrie would at least like you when she met you. Her opinion was so important, you wanted to be useful to all of them to make up for causing so many problems.

Regardless, you tried to bite down on the anxiety and let things come as they were supposed to.

You could tell that the others were trying so hard, doing their very best to keep you distracted from the pain. They took you to a little diner right around where the large buildings of the city started turning into a small town, Jack’s diner. It was a quaint little place, filled with an old fashioned vibe that made you feel oddly relaxed. Just as Nero said, the old man still kept the little restaurant open despite the danger level. There were few to no customers, but that was preferred considering the state your group was in. You all definitely looked like you just got back from fighting demons, not that the owner minded.

Nico and Nero kept the chatter up through the meal, Nico with an arm slung over your shoulder and Nero sitting across from you both with Trish. Lady managed to squeeze into the booth on your other side, seeming content to just watch and listen while everyone conversed. You didn’t really have the energy to keep up with it all, but Nico wasn’t letting you sit by quietly. They told you about the small group of kids at the orphanage, each of their names and personalities so you would be at least somewhat equipped for meeting them. Both seemed to really care about the children, which was very sweet. You watched Nero carefully while they all talked, noticing his level of exhaustion and realizing fairly quickly he was trying to distract himself too.

The past few days had been just as unkind to him.

You entered a strange, dazed state as the day went on, letting the flow take you with it. The pancakes served at Jack’s were delicious to be sure, your body not realizing how hungry it was until you were eating. You ate the whole plate, feeling a bit better once something solid was on your stomach. Normal. Nero was impressed you could knock back a five stack so quickly, and Nico was the encouraging force urging you to chug a second cup of orange juice in a contest with her. It felt juvenile, fun in a way. There was camaraderie in the air and it lightened the weight on your shoulders enough to let you smile a bit.

It was just too bad that you wished V was there sharing in these moments with you.

As much as they distracted you, that heavy sorrow remained weighing you down. Every moment where happiness tried to peek through, it felt hollow without him there. Smirking lightly, watching the group talk and laugh and finding enjoyment in it. Or had he? Was that smile just a front? You couldn’t be sure, and thinking of it only made things worse.

Nero and Trish ended up splitting the bill, the blond haired woman rolling her eyes when Nero tried to refuse her money. She practically shoved it in his face, standing up from the booth and sauntering out to the van again. You exchanged a glance with Lady, who only smiled and shrugged as she pulled you out of the booth as well. You kept some leftover bacon and sausage in a little box to give to Shadow and Griffon later, because lord knew you couldn’t bring two demons out in public.

From there on out...all that was left to drop off the two women before heading to Fortuna.

You noticed upon traveling further away from the city, seeing normal society made you feel a bit odd. People walked along the sidewalks, on their way to early morning destinations. Their lives seemed so normal in comparison, human and peaceful. You couldn’t remember a time before the Void, before selling your soul. Finding that sense of normalcy seemed so impossible.

But...you tried.

Griffon and Shadow came out once the van set off again, Trish eyeing the mighty panther with wary eyes until it leapt up on the couch with your, draping themself across your lap like an overgrown cat. Lady was sitting next to you, so she took a few tentative pats at Shadow’s fur. They were on their best behavior, seeming to like the attention.

“Can’t believe everyone is gettin’ in on this now,” Griffon huffed from his perch on the back of the couch, his strange beak snapping by your ear in that familiar manner, “You’re gonna make the big killin’ machine soft at this rate.”

You let out a little  hum, handing him some food that he eagerly snatched and gobbled down.

“They’re having fun,” Your tone was soft, adoration in your eyes as you met Shadow’s slow, blinking gaze, “And that’s what matters.”

Nero yawned from the front seat, his feet kicked up on the dashboard and chair partway reclined. You could tell the energy drinks were wearing off, that much was pretty certain as he grumbled, “The kids are gonna love the cat, that’s for sure. Maybe I should warn Kyrie beforehand?”

Nico snickered, still somehow wide awake despite not sleeping at all along her drive, “Nah, let it be a surprise. That along with your new baby arm.” Her brows waggled with her words, mischievous eyes darting back to the arm in question. That was another thing explained to you, how accessing his new Devil Trigger form healed back a bright, shiny new limb. You learned not to ask questions in regards to things like that.

“Maybe I could soften it?” Nero continued to mumble, words sounding very tired indeed, “Tell her I’m bringing home pets?”

“I’m down. I’ll back you up, psycho.”

All you could muster was a single shake of your head at their antics, feeling a bit bad for Kyrie in regards to all of this. You hoped to god you weren’t imposing or causing them trouble, the very idea made your energy swirl nervously in your gut.

Griffon sensed it, nosing the side of your face again and saying gruffly in your ear, “Shut off your brain for a few hours at least, toots. You bein’ all sad makes my feathers ache.”

You jolted, immediately trying to swallow down those thoughts as guilt bit at you next. You kept forgetting Griffon and the other familiars were a part of you now, such things affected them.

“S...sorry…” You whispered in reply, focusing as hard as you could to not think about all the bad things.

Griffon let out a soft squawk of realization once it occurred to him that saying such a thing did not help at all.

“Fuck, that’s not what I meant,” He sighed, sounding a bit awkward as he shuffled closer, laying his head on your shoulder, “Just...tryin’ to help you not focus on all that garbage left over. Shit will improve, we all know that, right? Right.”

You smiled at his brisk, hurried way of speaking. Like he was trying to will you into feeling better with energy alone. It wasn’t nearly that easy, but his effort did make you feel a bit better in a strange way. Shadow was also trying their best, purring loudly and reaching a paw up to pat your face with it. Being this close to the familiars with no barriers now was so relaxing, putting your aching heart slightly more to ease. It was just...hard, though, considering who they were connected to before.

_You miss him. And no matter what you do, that will not fade._

The only reason you hadn’t collapsed back into sorrow and despair again was the group surrounding you with support. You didn’t want to burden them with your pain, crying around them would only serve to make everyone just as sad as you were. So you managed to bite it back, holding it in until you started to feel numb from it. Doing so surely wasn’t healthy for your mind, but...there seemed to be no other choice. You refused to burden them when they were trying this hard, ready to keep the tears and pain at bay for days until needed. But even then...did you even have the right to cry?

_It was you who caused this.  You and no one else._

“Toots...” Griffon began in a warning tone, seeing where your thoughts were going and not liking them at all. But he didn’t get the chance to continue.

“We’re here.” Nico announced, the van coming to a skidding halt and drawing you out of your dull way of thinking. You didn’t realize how much time had passed while you were drifting in and out of thought--or maybe the mechanic was just driving fast. The latter seemed heavily likely.

You looked out the window to see a tall, brick-laden building. Above the doors was a sign just like the one on the van, only larger and glowing with red instead of that neon blue. This had to be the main Devil May Cry building, there was certainly no mistaking that. It still felt so strange to think a man like Dante actually ran a business--he was a certified mess of a man at best.

You blinked, turning to look at Lady and Trish as they both stood, Lady yawning lightly and stretching up her arms. The dark-haired devil hunter looked tired, you felt awful that she had stayed up all night to wait for you to wake up. But...there was also a part of you that desperately didn’t want her to leave, her support being such a needed thing that you almost started to cry there and then.

But you held it back.

_I can’t keep being selfish._

“Thanks for the ride, Nico,” Trish said to the mechanic up front, looking between her and Nero, “I’ll call you if Dante shows up any time soon. If you need us we’re going to be here.”

Nero gave her a small salute with his fingers, seeming pretty tired as he replied, “Sure thing. Thanks for helpin’ out, it was a blast.” There was definitely sarcasm lacing his tone there at the end.

Trish scoffed, rolling her eyes and turning to the van door. You saw her pause, standing by Lady and watching you both as the woman pulled you into a firm hug. The motherly embrace Lady brought with her was definitely making it hard for you not to cry, that was for certain. You clung to her for a moment, pressing your face to her shoulder and letting out a slow breath. She had done a lot to help you mentally through the past few days, you wish that you could spend more time with her. But there was work to be done, and a mess to clean up after what Vergil did. You knew your place.

“I promise I’ll visit you in Fortuna soon,” Lady said firmly, squeezing you tightly to her almost to the point of it being too much. She skewered Griffon and Shadow with a glare, tone firm as she told them, “Keep her safe or you answer to me.”

Griffon let out a snort, shaking out his feathers as he replied in a standoffish tone, “You don’t have to tell us that…!”

Lady huffed, leaning back from you and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes, managing to muster a smile for her before she had to leave. You wanted her to think you would be okay, wanted to be as strong as she thought you were. And all you could do was try.

“Everything will be okay,” She said softly, meeting your sad eyes with steady ones of her own. You took a moment to take in just how pretty her different colored irises looked, one red and one green, “I know you can make it through what happened...there is still happiness for you to find beyond what happened with V.”

Hearing her say the poet’s name made you flinch, like the reality of it had hit you in the face. She knew exactly what you had been feeling, that uncertainty and pain a lot more obvious than you anticipated. Or maybe...Lady was just good at reading others. You lowered your gaze, smiling sadly as you tried to push back another wave of that stubborn, heavy emotion that threatened to drown you again. You were grateful to have a person like Lady in your life, she was a big part of the force holding the broken pieces of you together.

“I know,” You replied softly, feeling several sets of eyes watching you but not finding the will to care. You mustered up another fake, brighter smile, looking back up at Lady and adding, “I’ll see you when you come visit. Thank you for all you’ve done for me, Lady.”

The older woman smiled, cupping your cheeks once before releasing you entirely. She turned, exchanging a brief look with Trish before pushing open the van door. Seeing her go was...incredibly hard, but necessary. You couldn’t rely on others forever, that was for certain. Trish paused for another moment, looking at you again with her sharp eyes and meeting your gaze. What was she thinking about while making a face like that, dancing on the border of concern and exasperation? Of all the people in the van, she was by far the hardest to get a read on. There was definitely an emotion there, but one you could not identify.

When she opened her mouth, you were pretty surprised when what came out was an apology.

“...Forgive me for not telling you the information I knew,” She said hesitantly, making you realize that flicker of emotion was probably guilt, “When Lady comes by for a visit I’ll join her--I owe you one.”

You blinked, unsure of what to say in response to her statement. In your opinion, there wasn’t a thing she owed you. It wasn’t like she had been your friend when V told her those things, nor were you entitled to her knowledge. These were things you could have discovered on your own, but you didn’t even try. And for that...you took that blame on yourself. Never on her, that was not her burden to bear.

“...It’s not your fault,” You offered her a small, sad smile, shaking your head lightly as you replied, “You don’t owe me anything. But still come by and visit, I would like to know more about you.”

That made the woman look visibly surprised, her eyes flickering back to your face to read your expression. You saw her frown, click her tongue and shake her head lightly, like your words were somehow exasperating.

“You’re too nice for your own good,” She said in a low tone, her eyes sharp as she turned away to follow Lady out of the van, “Take care, Y/N.”

The door shut behind her before you could think of a reply, the sound loud in the small space. You stood there for a moment, watching through the van’s window as the women spared a few glances back at the mobile home, Lady giving a small wave. Your mind ached with the desire to call out to them both, begging them to stay when you so desperately needed them. But...that wasn’t your place to ask.

They then pushed open the doors of Devil May Cry, walking inside and letting them swing shut behind them. Your smile eventually dropped after they were no longer in sight, body slumping onto the couch again with a light sigh. To say you were disparaged was an understatement, mood dropping considerably now that you were without the older woman keeping you steady.

Shadow could sense it, scooting closer to you and pressing her soft toe beans to your bare thigh. It made you look up, realizing that Nico and Nero were both looking back at you with varying levels of concern.

“You holdin’ up okay?” Nero asked, brow furrowed and lips pursed lightly.

You paused, trying to gather yourself a little bit as you picked up one of Shadow’s paws, pressing its soft texture to your face. No longer alone, you reminded yourself. Even with Lady no longer there for the time being, there were more than enough people here with you offering what they could to make you feel better.

And that...was enough.

“I’m...okay,” You replied after a moment, your voice sounding steadier than you thought it would, “Not the best, but...I’ll be okay.”

_You must. There is no other choice._

That made Nico smirk, seeming satisfied with your answer and the look you wore on your face. She turned back to the wheel, stretching her arms above her head until the joints popped.

“Alright!” She hollered, her energy seeming in such a stark contrast to how beat Nero looked, “Let’s head home! If we’re lucky we can catch the last ferry before five o’clock!”

Nero winced at her overly loud voice, waving his left hand at her as he complained, “Jeez, tone it down. At this rate, I’ll never be able to sneak in a nap before we see Kyrie.”

You tuned out the argument before it could start, letting out a quiet sigh and flopping down on the couch again. Exhaustion was making a guest appearance again, tap dancing on stage with grief and regret. Shadow settled along your form, resting their mighty head on your chest and opening their jaws in a huge yawn. You got an eyeful of sharp teeth, but paid little mind to it as you put your gaze to the ceiling.

The van was beginning to move once more, Nico putting the pedal to the metal in an attempt to reach the ferry before it set off in the afternoon. You felt a little...anxious about going to Fortuna. There were so many people there that would be met, most of them children. If the kids didn’t like you, would you be able to stay?

It felt like such a silly thing to be worried about.

Griffon settled on the top of the couch, listening to your racing thoughts as the hours ticked by in the drive. Nico started chatting with you once Nero finally crashed from all the caffeine, but the conversation ranged between asking about your powers to the kind of things you liked. You couldn’t remember the last time someone asked your favorite color or animal, but Nico asked it. She carefully kept away from asking about your Deity, or V for that matter. Probably not wanting to dredge up bad emotions when you were already in a struggle to stay stable. Meanwhile, you decided your favorite animal was a cat, a response that made Griffon snort in mock annoyance. And you learned Nico was partial to dogs.

The other part of your time was spent looking out the windows while Nico’s jukebox played, watching the beautiful landscape and changing scenery. The further you got from Redgrave, the more normal and lively things seemed to become. Rivers were passed over, more buildings and homes lining normal streets and shops peppered in between. The sun moved across the sky as the day went on, changing the world’s colors and casting beautiful, elaborate patterns all over. You tried to focus on those things over anything else, taking up repetitive tasks to distract your mind. Counting street-lamps, playing I spy with Griffon and Nico.

It had already started reaching into the afternoon when Nero woke back up, jolting when Nico hit a particularly large pothole in the road. Had she hit that on purpose? Probably. And judging by her little smirk? Definitely. Nero scowled, looking around with a red mark on one cheek from leaning his hand on it. That was around the time that you started counting the teeth in Shadow’s mouth, ignoring Griffon’s taunts and jibes about your inane, silly tasks. Nero was definitely not feeling too hot after sleeping off all that caffeine, that was for sure. He looked closer to having a hangover than anything else.

Regardless.

That was the point that you sat up, noticing the taste of salt water in the air coming from Nico’s window. You turned, sucking in a breath at the sight of the ocean peeking over the horizon. It was certainly beautiful, glinting with the light of the sun getting lower and lower in the sky. It shimmered in an ethereal way, like it was covered in diamonds. You were certain you had seen an ocean at least once in your travels, but...somehow this was far more lovely than ones you had seen before. Your gaze would not move from it even as it drew closer, showing beaches dotted with human beings lounging and relaxing. It all looked so peaceful, quiet.

Nico eventually pulled into what looked to be a long dock, the elusive ferry waiting at the end and calling for the last to board. It all felt so whimsical, like the things you would see in movies--seagulls peppered the docks, soaring over all the boats in port swaying on the waves. Nico honked her horn, alerting an older-looking man who was about to close the gate in front of the waiting ship. He seemed to recognize the mechanic in an instant, shaking his head but waving a hand to allow them through. Thank goodness for that at the very least--you weren’t sure if you could handle being in the van again overnight.

Nico pulled onto the ramp leading onto the ferry, parking her van next to what appeared to be one other car--there weren’t a lot of people heading to Fortuna, it would seem. It made sense, Nico explained earlier that up until recent years the secluded city had been closed to the public, only opening their doors after rebuilding from the Order of the Sword disaster. Nero and a few others were working to get the city more open to outside visitors, to changing and accepting new technology and advancements. It was a slow process, but it was sure to increase the city’s economy bit by bit.

It was another hour from then on out. The three of you left the van while the ferry took you over the ocean, swaying and rocking on the waves. It was in these moments you tried to find your peace a bit more, staring out at the water as the salty breeze sent your hair swaying. The ocean reminded you of the Deity, there in his Void with the lonely whales. You wondered what he could possibly be thinking after all that had happened, if he knew how much his actions had affected you. All while this happened Nico kept up her conversations, leaning close to you and leaning back on the railing. You appreciate her effort, she was most certainly keeping your brain from bouncing back to the terrible thoughts.

“You’re gonna love the City,” She told you, pulling out a cigarette to light it and puffing smoke in the breeze away from you. Careful not to let you inhale it as well, “The people have sticks up their asses, but it ain’t like it’s their fault. It’s gettin’ better.”

Nero grunted at her words, leaning on the railing on your other side and squinting at the rolling waves in the distance, “They’re gonna be wary when some crazy woman comes bangin’ on their doors askin’ about the Order like you did.”

“Worked with y’all, didn’t it?” Nico sounded smug.

That earned her a scoff, the boy narrowing his eyes on her as he turned his head, “Yeah, just ‘cause Kyrie is nice.”

You smiled softly again, leaning back so Nico could shove Nero’s shoulder lightly. They really did act like siblings, which was nice in your opinion. It was obvious they cared underneath all the silly arguments.

“I’m eager to meet Kyrie,” You told Nero, a hint of nervousness in your tone now as you admitted, “You guys have talked her up so much, I hope I make a good first impression.”

Nico snorted, waving your concerns away and placing her free hand on your shoulder, “Don’t worry your pretty little head,” She said lightly, smirking as she took another long drag from her cigarette, “Kyrie is a doll and she likes everyone. Must be how a delinquent like Nero managed to snag her.”

Part of you expected Nero to protest that, since it came out in such a teasing tone. But he merely shrugged, shaking his head as he replied in a soft tone, “Ya got me there.”

There was an underlying hint of adoration in his voice, his expression always going soft at mention of his lady love. It was cute, and you definitely wanted to know what lead to them being together--but you could see the good in Nero behind all the bold and brash attitude he had. There was kindness, passion, the need to protect the people he cared about and a drive to work hard. Nero was a good kid, so he deserved the best. And it seemed like Kyrie was that and then some.

But...it still didn’t stop you from feeling nervous, even as the City appeared in the distance. Fortuna certainly was beautiful, the architecture looking old and elegant, with sweeping towers and stone lined walls. You stared in awe at it all, leaning over the railing and watching the waves crash up on the coast. It looked like the craggly rocks turned into a beach on the one side, sweeping around and disappearing as the island extended outwards. You couldn’t remember the last time you had sank your toes into some sand, or sunbathed.

“Wow…” You breathed, voice carried on the wind as it rushed past.

Nico chuckled, patting you on the shoulder and tugging you back toward the van, “Told ya! Come on now, let’s get ready to head out.”

It took a few minutes for the ferry to dock itself in Fortuna, giving you a chance to peek at a cobblestone path leading through to a town square. You were distracted in that moment by the sight of merchants, a market just starting to shut down after a day of selling and trading. People walked the street in hoods and cloaks, looking like they were playing a part in a fairy tale. Not that there wasn’t the occasion, normally dressed person dotted in between. It was all very...strange. You continued to stare even as the van started moving, peeling off from the boat and starting down the street. Everyone seemed used to the vehicle by now, bowing their heads and politely moving past as Nico drove along.

That nervousness came back, mingling with the sadness also starting to creep its way in. This seemed like the kind of place V would enjoy, there was no doubt. Poetry was a good word to describe everything, this secluded city of beauty and culture recovering from years of manipulation from a religious group. You could almost imagine the poet there next to you, reading from his book a line to describe the scenery in his warm, honeyed voice.

Your hand slid up to your blouse, squeezing the fabric between your fingers. You needed to stop thinking about him, you needed to stop this cycle before it got worse. But how difficult a task, when your eyes saw him in everything?

_This hurts._

But you bit your tongue as you leaned on the couch, watching the buildings roll by and trying to keep yourself distracted. It was hard, too hard. Your journey was seemingly coming to an end, and it was stirring up the emotions that kept worming their way back into your subconscious. Heartbreak was a strange, fickle thing. Still fresh and new in such a capacity. You had never lost a love before, not in any memories you had or seemingly in the remaining traces. To experience romance in a week, to fall so hard your legs crumpled beneath you and to go through losing that love just as quick...why wasn’t the ache leaving you? Was this normal? Logic said that this suffering was strange for how long you knew V, but…

_It felt like it was right. All of him had, even until the end._

It was on that thought that Nico finally turned a corner, hugging a road on the coast that lead to a back street lined with more buildings and no markets. You blinked, seeing a sign above a doorway that said “ _Fortuna Orphanage_.” Simplistic, but you doubted an island of this size had many kids without homes. Despite the small size, there looked to be another side building connected to the orphanage, this one shaped differently and more resembling a house. There were wide, open windows with flower boxes on the sills growing herbs and various other plants. It was the garage door on that side that Nico went for, honking her horn loudly as the metal cranked open to let the vehicle inside.

Nervous. You felt nervous.

Nero let out a relieved sigh, dragging himself out of the passenger seat as the van’s engine cut off. You exchanged a glance with him, the boy not missing the worry at all as you hesitated on the couch. This was definitely a bit overwhelming after everything that had happened, your brain scrambling to remember how to introduce yourself to people, how to act around children, how to...exist. You summoned the familiars back before they could comment on the thought process, feeling Griffon’s annoyance and feeling bad. But there was not much else you could do.

You didn’t want to make matters worse.

“C’mon kid,” Nero said encouragingly, patting your shoulder before Nico took one of your hands and dragged you up, “No need to look so scared. Told ya everything was gonna be fine, didn’t I?”

You hesitated, but nodded in response. Nico grinned at you, seemed excited as she threaded her fingers with yours and tugged you after the boy. You realized this was the first time someone other than V had held your hand, and it felt...different. Still loving, still kind, but with no romance compared to the elegant fingers of the poet. It was a comfort, one that you needed as you hopped onto the garage floor, eyeing your surroundings and trying to calm your racing heart.

You noticed Nero quickly pulling down his sleeve to hide his new arm and carefully keeping his fingers hidden. You smiled, he looked pretty eager himself all things considered. Like he was about to give his wife a present.

Nero had no sooner opened the garage door into what looked to be a kitchen when the sound of scurrying little feet came barreling from the other door in the room. Like children running down the stairs. You blinked, then a second later the door burst open, revealing four kids as they ran into the kitchen and leapt onto Nero before he could react. Squeals and screams of delight echoed through the space, making you fight a smile as the white-haired boy pretended to stumble under the weight of them all and fall to the floor.

“Nero is home!”

“Hi Nero!”

“Welcome back!”

One of the kids was still very young, thumb in his mouth as he hung onto Nero’s coat with his other hand. There was three boys and one girl, ranging in ages between three to ten. They seemed so preoccupied with Nero, they didn’t see you standing in the doorway with Nico at all. All in all, they were all very cute, your lips smiling despite how nervous you felt as you saw the devil hunter grin, wrangling one kid under each arm and having another hang onto his leg like he was  a jungle gym. You could tell right away how much he cared about them, and how much they adored him in turn. Like a happy little family.

So engrossed in the display of affection, you didn’t notice the beautiful, auburn haired woman standing in the doorway. It wasn’t until she spoke, her voice soft and relieved as she too took in her fiance greeting all the kids.

“Welcome home.” She said with a loving smile, her eyes staring at adoration when you and the other two turned to look at her. Whatever you were expecting, you weren’t sure if it was close. Kyrie was a gorgeous woman, in a way that was so unbelievably soft and delicate looking. Her eyes were so kind, her smile very warm. You felt your heart speed up for a second, feeling even more nervous now that you were seeing her in person--she looked like an angel, and you would hate to not have her approval. But...you doubted this woman had a mean bone in her body.

Nero immediately perked up, that dopey grin lifting his lips as he stepped toward her, towing each child with him as he leaned in for a kiss. Each kid let out varying sounds of disgust, giggling at Nero as he rolled his eyes.

“Hey babe,” He told Kyrie, taking her hand with his left one and giving it a squeeze, “Sorry it took us so long, things got uhhh...crazy.”

Kyrie smiled in understanding, seeming delighted just to have him home as she said, “That’s okay, the kids kept me busy,” She looked down at the little boy clinging to Nero’s leg, the one with his thumb in his mouth, “Carlo helped me plant mint in some flower pots, didn’t you?”

The little boy nodded, perking up at her words like mint leaves were somehow the most exciting things every. Each of the kids was chatting excitedly, trying to get Nero’s attention with various stories they had amassed in his absence.

“Settle down,” He told them all ,setting the two he was holding on the ground with a smirk, “You’ll have all day tomorrow to catch me up. Didn’t I teach you guys to introduce yourselves when we have someone new in the house?”

All the kids looked confused until Nero pointed at the doorway where you were standing with Nico, drawing all four sets of little eyes on you instead. You blinked, smiling in a friendly manner and trying to calm the little ball of anxiety in your stomach. After all, Kyrie was now looking at you too. There was a look of almost...excitement in her eyes as she examined your face, seeming just as eager to see you as the kids did when they scrambled over to your legs. You were new, and new things excited children it would seem.

“Who are you?” Asked one of the older children, a little boy with darker skin but pretty, green eyes. All of them were starring at you with varying levels of awe and interest, making you feel a bit nervous as you struggling to tame the lump in your throat.

“I...I’m Y/N,” You introduced yourself, crouching down so you were at eye level with the boy who asked. You smiled, holding out a hand to shake as you asked, “And you are?”

He immediately stuck out his arm, grasping your fingers and giving it a little wiggle as he replied, “My name is Julio! This is Kyle, Carlo, and Emma.”

The other boy, Kyle, let out a huff and tugged on Julio’s shirt, “I can say my own name…!”

Nico and Nero had mentioned all their names before, but it was still polite to ask. You smiled ruefully when Julio stuck out his tongue, feeling the little girl place a hand on your arm and patting lightly to get your attention. She looked like she was six or seven years old, her brown hair pulled into tiny pigtails and her eyes round with curiosity.

“Hi, Y/N.” She said with a small wave, bouncing on her feet a bit.

Well, you were overwhelmed but incredibly smitten.

Each child kept trying to introduce themselves now, leaving you to stand there and take it all in with patience. Nico chuckled, reaching down to scoop up Carlo and put the boy over her shoulder--she could sense you losing control of the situation, and came to your rescue easily. For that, you were heavily grateful.

“C’mon now, brats!” She exclaimed loudly, snatching Kyle and starting for another doorway toward a set of stairs, “None of y’all have brushed your teeth, your smelly breath is stinkin’ up the air.”

Each kid let out whines of complaint, Kyle wiggling in the mechanics grasp as she carted them upstairs. You heard Nico argue with them, claiming that they had tomorrow to learn about the “new lady” and talk to her. New lady being you. The instant they were out of sight you felt the tension leave your body heart pounding slower and slower now that you no longer had them all crowding you. They were precious, they really were, but after the past few days trying to keep up with their energy was impossible. When was the last time you interacted with a child? You couldn’t ever remember a time, not in the last few missions at all.

But that still left Kyrie.

She approached you when the kids were gone, taking your hands between hers to squeeze them as she apologized, “Please forgive them, we don’t see many new faces around here,” Her eyes were so soft when you looked into their brown depths, her lips tilted in a welcoming smile, “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Y/N. I’ve heard many good things about you.”

Wow, Kyrie radiated the energy of a mom or a big sister. Even more than Lady did, if that was all possible. You felt like you were staring into something bright enough to be the sun.

“You must be Kyrie,” You said, tilting your head and smiling as well while you added, “It’s...it’s wonderful to meet you too. Nero talked about you quite a bit.”

The boy had the decency to look embarrassed, ducking his head and cheeks a little red while he leaned on a nearby wall. Careful not to let his bare hand show, of course. Kyrie looked back at him, easily catching his awkward look and letting out a cute giggle.

“That makes me happy,” She said, turning back to you with a grin, “Let me show you which room is yours--the kids have an area on one side of the house, and we have a few rooms on this side.”

You nodded, letting her take you by the hand just as Nico had and tug you towards an opposing set of stairs. Nero exchanged a glance with you as she did so, giving you an encouraging smile and wiggling his right set of fingers in a meaningful wave. He still had his little surprise waiting for his wife, which you were certain he was going to show her once they had some alone time. You would try not to keep her busy for too long, the lovers deserved to have their reunion at the very least.

After climbing the stairs she lead you down a hallway, giving you time to see paintings and pictures lining the walls between rooms. You saw unfamiliar people and children among a few pictures of Nero and Kyrie. You guessed some of these were of the kind woman’s parents, others of the children who used to stay at the orphanage. There was even one of a little, grumpy boy with white hair--there was no mistaking who that was.

Regardless, you followed Kyrie to a door at the end of the hall. It opened to reveal another small set of stairs, leading to a loft-style room that had to be yours.

You blinked, taking in the quaint little space with curious eyes and feeling your breath catch. There were huge, open windows facing the ocean behind the house, curtains drifting on the wind over your bed. The room wasn’t large, but you preferred it this way. The ceiling was slanted on the opposing side to the window, over a cubby with a desk. There looked to be a dresser as well in front of the railing to the stairs, and a small closet door. It was cute, and it was much more than you would have ever asked from anyone. To be able to taste the ocean air in the morning, woken up by the sun…

The only hurt was knowing V wouldn’t be there to experience it with you.

_Stop that._

“I put some clothing in the dresser for you,” Kyrie’s voice drew you out of your thoughts, making you look at her as she pulled open a drawer, “It’s not much, but I can make more once I get some more supplies from the city square.”

You blinked, tone awed as you asked, “You...make clothes?”

She nodded, seeming proud of herself as she gave a little twirl in her dress--a flowing thing that reached her knees, patterned with sunflowers and wearing a jean jacket on top, “I do. It’s cheaper this way, easier to get fabrics and thread from people in Fortuna with how slow things have been.”

That was understandable, but still impressive. You wondered if she made the kids clothes too, but assumed the answer was yes considering how Kyrie was as a person.

“Thank you for your kindness,” You said softly, touching the few shirts in the first drawer with your fingertips. You felt the woman look back at you on her way to show you the closet, but you kept your eyes on the dresser, “I’ll do my best not to be a burden on you and Nero, and to make up for staying here. Whatever you need I can do.”

You would cook, clean, and help Nero fight demons if needed. You knew what your Void powers could do, knew that they could serve many uses other than fighting if you so chose it. Kyrie and Nero didn’t have to take you in, but...they did, and for that nothing would ever be enough to repay them for it. Kyrie smiled in understanding, looking a bit sad in your peripheral vision but you couldn’t understand why. Surely she would want help? Working an orphanage was hard work, and you doubted she was paid much for it if at all.

“Help is always needed,” She said softly, taking a step closer and putting a hand on your shoulder, “But take the time to recover first. You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”

That made your heart skip a beat, that flowering pain opening its petals and digging in thorns. There was no doubt that Nero had talked to her about what happened with V, and maybe more judging by that knowing look in her eyes. You looked at her, fingers trembling where they touched the soft fabric and trying to gather yourself again. But Kyrie didn’t wait for a reply, only offering a cheerful smile and moving for the stairs once more.

“There’s a shower downstairs on the right,” She told you, patting a towel hanging on the railing, “Why don’t you get cleaned up and meet me on the beach later so we can talk?”

You nodded, feeling a bit dazed as you watched her descend down the stairs with her auburn hair swaying back and forth. The last time you had showered, in was in the van after your punishment. And that alone was a hard memory to swallow, even as you obeyed her. Your feet carried you to the bathroom without thinking, fingers numb as you closed the door and started to remove your clothes. If you weren’t struggling so hard to keep your emotions at bay, you might have noticed how cute the bathroom was. Blue tiles and things revolving around the ocean hanging on the walls. But...your mind was elsewhere.

This was the first time you saw yourself in the mirror since the incident.

Your eyes stared tiredly back, hair shoved over one shoulder and those new tattoos covering your collar bones down to your arms. Pale, you looked pale. Not like yourself, even though you had issues with that before now. It was eerie, seeing V’s markings on your own flawed skin, the sensation making you feel even more numb than before. But that was definitely your hand that raised in the mirror, touching your cheek and wiping at a dried drop of whale oil on your lashes. You were a mess, it was shocking that the children approached you looking so run down.

But you didn’t linger, turning to step into the porcelain tub and turn on the water. For whatever reason, you thought the instant you were under the warm spray the tears would finally come, that you would break down and finally sob all the pain out. But...you didn’t. You mechanically washed your hair, scrubbed your body, removed all traces of the Qliphoth tree in its entirety. And even then, the tears wouldn’t come. Which phase of the grief was this, the aching numbness filling your limbs? It spread as you shut off the water, not staying too long in the warmth and drying yourself off. Being clean didn’t make you feel better, but it also didn’t make you worse.

It was all instinct, drying your hair, putting on what felt to be a fresh, blue shirt and new shorts. They were comfortable, made more for relaxation than fighting. And even then...you felt unchanged as you padded up to your room, depositing your clothes in a hamper before making your way back down. Griffon, Shadow, and Nightmare were anxious on the edges of your mind, taking in your mood and the new area but too nervous to come out yet. All in all, you spent maybe thirty or forty minutes getting freshened up.

When you got downstairs, things had quieted considerably. It was around eight o’clock now, the sun already almost gone behind the clouded horizon line. You looked around, taking in what looked to be a living room and parlor off from the kitchen, then a room that lead to what appeared to be the main part of the orphanage. You didn’t want to look around too much yet, so you headed to what looked to be a back door, stepping outside barefoot. Kyrie and Nero lived in a beautiful home--there was a garden out back, growing fruits and vegetables with an archway lined with vines. You followed a little stone path leaded to a small set of stairs, ones that lead out onto golden sands.

There was a strange feeling there, your toes sinking into the sand that was cooling now that the sun was down. To live so close to a beach, it just beyond their back door was...nice. And there on the beach Kyrie waited, sitting on a blanket with Nico and sipping what looked to be tea sitting on a small table with a lit lantern illuminating them in the dim light. Both looked up at the sound of you approaching, Nico now in what looked to be an oversized t-shirt and booty shorts now that she wasn’t working in her van.

“Where’s Nero?” You asked quietly, sitting down next to Kyrie on the blanket and crossing your legs. For that matter, the kids were absent too. You were unsure how late that they were allowed to stay up.

Nico snorted, her long hair now pulled into a loose ponytail as she replied, “He’s putting the little kiddies to bed. They were eager to have him back,” She waggled her brows, staring at Kyrie in amusement as she added, “You missed out on Nero showing Kyrie his new arm, Y/N.”

You looked at the woman in question, catching her smiling widely and proudly at mention of Nero. It was easy to see that she was overjoyed about the surprise, her eyes shining with delight as she nodded vigorously.

“I’m so happy for him,” She said in a relieved tone, clasping her hands in front of her chest like she was praying, “It was so hard for him when he lost the Devil arm, I’m glad there’s at least one grief off his shoulders.”

Christ, Kyrie really was a sweetheart, wasn’t she? It made you smile, even if the motion felt a little stiff with your mood. You accepted a cup of tea when it was offered to you by Nico, holding the cup between your fingers and staring at the liquid with tired eyes. If anyone deserved to be happy, it was definitely Nero and Kyrie. Your sorrow didn’t subtract from that in the slightest bit. You tried to keep that thought in your head, knowing that sinking into anything less would be childish. Jealousy had never been in your nature, and you weren’t about to start now.

“He was really excited to show you,” Your mouth moved finally, words soft but still heard over the sound of waves, “He went through a lot, so he deserves to get something good from it.”

Kyrie placed a hand on your arm, making you look up at her gentle, brown eyes. For a moment it felt like she was looking right into your soul, a sensation that made you feel a bit too vulnerable for your liking.

“So did you,” She said softly, not looking away from your startled gaze as she continued, “Nero told me what happened with V, and Vergil. And the Deity too--you went through something just as terrible.”

Hearing all their names made you flinch, looking away and holding the cup a little bit tighter. She was only confirming what you already knew, but the reality was punching you in the gut over and over. Walls of numbness were surrounding those emotions now, but they were new. Made of fragile glass, threatening to break just at hearing V’s name. You didn’t want to shatter, not now. Not anymore. It was your burden to bear, this pain that you were burying deep inside with all the rest of the memories that hurt you. It was all you could do to cope, to smile.

But it just made you a glass container ready to crack.

“It’s okay,” You said mechanically, the words feeling fake even to you as you kept your eyes on the ocean, “I’ll be fine with time.”

You felt the Void rising up, whispering those words through your lips that had become so familiar.

 _“This pain is a reminder that I am alive,”_ You said softly, but they felt weighted now. Tired, not like before. In the beginning these words felt right, they had meaning and they drove you. You took pain as a blessing, for if you felt pain it meant that you weren’t dead like before. Every bit of it was a gift, one that you shouldn’t take for granted. But...now it felt like weights, “I’ll bear it, because I...I’m lucky to even be here right now.”

_You should be grateful. To have power, to have life breathed into your suffering soul and lungs._

You could feel Kyrie and Nico staring at you, but you didn’t dare look back at their faces. You knew that they couldn’t understand, they who had never died or been to a place like the Void. The cold, the dark, the howling of so many tortured voices...it left its mark on you, one that would never leave. The Deity’s hands had been guiding you since that first moment of awakening, but they felt more like shackles now, holding you down as a knife was plunged into your chest. And worse...you felt like you deserved it.

“....You know,” Kyrie finally said, her voice gentle and warm compared to the turmoil being tampered down inside you, “I’ve always found that the good things in life are what make _me_ feel most alive.”

You froze, turning to meet her brown gaze with a startled one of your own. She stared steadily back, taking one of your hands and squeezing it between her delicate fingers. It looked like she had given her words a lot of thought, probably cultivating this speech since Nero and Nico had told her your story. Of how you died, repeating the miserable cycle over and over until you fell for V. And then...he left you too.

_They always leave._

“Like eating your favorite food after not having it for a long time,” Kyrie continued despite your dark thoughts, closing her eyes like she was remembering past memories, her hair drifting on the breeze, “Or hugging a friend so tightly that you share your warmth with them. The feeling of putting on a fresh shirt when it has dried, or the sensation of laughing so hard there are tears in your eyes.”

“Or,” Nico piped in, sucking down some tea and smiling mischievously at you, “Finally gettin’ home after a long day and stickin’ your tiddies in front of an air conditioner.”

Kyrie let out a light giggle, smiling widely as she looked back at the messy haired mechanic, “That too! But what I’m saying is,” she turned back to you, squeezing your hand again as you listened on in silence, “This mindset you have, that life should be made real only by pain...in reality, it’s not making you feel alive at all. It’s keeping you in that bad place, making you feel like you deserve to be hurt like it justifies you being alive again...doesn’t it?”

_In reality...you didn’t feel alive at all, did you?_

Your glass walls started trembling, fingers mimicking the motion in Kyrie’s grasp. It was starting to hurt, it was starting to claw its way out your throat again. You stared out at the sea, feeling yourself unraveling as Nero’s fiance spoke the words you knew all along to be true, but never wanted to acknowledge it. After so many years of pain, of suffering, what else could you do to cope? The dark, the cold, the Void...you were birthed into this existence in pain, so willing to believe whatever was told to you to make the ache tolerable. Fooling yourself, trying to take the pain as a means to shield yourself. Like a punishment that you deserved.

It hurt. It hurt and it wasn’t fair. You felt your breathing speed up, mind struggling to push back the flood threatening to overtake you. It was too much, _it was too much._ You were overflowing with emotions in a glass too full, ready to break. And it had been a long time coming.

“I know it hurts,” Kyrie whispered, holding your trembling fingers between your own and keeping her gaze on your face, “You lost someone dear to you, and it’s agony, the worst kind. But this isn’t what made you feel most alive, was it? It was when you were with him that you were thriving, when pain wasn’t there anymore.”

 _“To hold infinity in the palm of your hand,_ ” Your mind replayed the night in the church, V’s eyes staring at you in adoration as he stroked your cheek. It made your breath catch,  a whimper of agony threatening to burst from your throat as you tried to push it back,  _“An eternity in an hour.”_

_Please. I can’t I can’t do this._

_“My sparrow, I do believe you are coming undone.”  
_

_Remembering you is a reminder of pain._

_“I am such a selfish creature, sparrow.”  
_

_One that I will never come back from.  
_

“And it’s those memories that you should hold onto, to remind you that you are alive,” Kyrie put a hand to your cheek, tilting your head so that your stricken gaze was looking back at her, “You are alive because you can love and feel all those wonderful things. Never doubt that, Y/N.”

 _It hurt. It hurt it hurt it hurt._ Tears were starting to fill your eyes, threatening to track down your cheeks.

_It hurts._

Kyrie gave you a soft smile, one that was a bit sad as she continued carefully, “Let the pain be pain, sweetheart. You’re allowed to be upset, to be angry, to be be heartbroken without trying to convince yourself that it’s needed,” She moved her hand from your cheek so she could squeeze your shaking fingers again, her voice taking on a firm tone as she continued, “You didn’t deserve it, you never did. And it’s okay to think that, to look at pain as a burden when it is one--pain is a reminder, but never one that you are alive.”

_Pain is a reminder, but never one that you are alive._

You felt yourself starting to hyperventilate, the tears falling down your cheeks without stop. You saw V in your mind, smiling at you with his gentle jade eyes meeting yours.

_You didn’t deserve it, you never did._

The walls had shattered, flooding you with memory after memory, feeling after feeling. Of when V held your hand for the first time, sharing your first kiss, entwining your bodies as you shared a night of passion. Crashing down on you like waves until you felt it again, the drowning grief pulling you under until you couldn’t breathe. It hurt, it was agony. But worse-- _she was right_. Those were the moments where you felt alive, heart at ease and filled with joy, filled with adoration and affection. When you were laughing with Griffon, curled up in a bed next to the familiars and V. You felt more alive in those moments than any other in so many years since your awakening, and they were everything to you.

All the tears you had held back, the feelings waiting to break through now burst out. You were crumbling to pieces, unable to stop the flow once it began. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair that you lost him after working so hard. This pain wasn’t fair, you didn’t deserve it. _You deserved better._

_It hurts._

_It hurts so much._

Heavy, gasping sobs started to burst out of your throat, tears dripping down your chin like a dam broken loose. You couldn’t stop, _they couldn’t stop_ , and for once you didn’t want them to.

And for the first time in so long, you wept harder than you ever had. Crying with your whole body, sobs wracking your frame as you fell to pieces in front of both girls. Kyrie took  the cup from your hands, handing it to Nico before she pulled you into an embrace. Your sobs turned into wails, releasing every ounce of grief and loss you felt, mind replaying all the moments of happiness ripped away from you in and instant. And this was what Kyrie knew you needed, to let it all go, to let the pain out and stop fighting yourself. After years and years of holding yourself back and taking beating after beating, you had finally had enough. She held you close, like a mother would, stroking back your hair and whispering soothingly to you.

 _“It’s not fair…_!” You sobbed, voice raw and broken as your shoulders trembled, “ _It’s not...it’s not fair…!”_

_I just wanted happiness, after so long of not having it. And it fell to pieces._

_I gave everything._

_I gave everything and it changed nothing._

You felt Nico put a hand on one of your shoulders, squeezing you gently as you continued to cry out everything you had held back. She said nothing, but you could feel her support too.

Kyrie stroked your hair back, her voice gentle and soothing as she whispered, “You did your best, and that’s what matters. It will be okay, I promise you that,” She held you closer, arms steady and firm and holding your steady amongst the storm inside, “You’re a part of my family now, and we will make sure you find happiness again, I swear that Y/N.”

You said nothing in response, still sobbing softly in her arms and unable to stop yourself. For once in so many years, you felt like you were at home. There had been no time to rest, no time to find peace, no time to realize just how terrible things had been for you. But now...now you were unraveling, picking apart every tragedy like they were strings on a bow playing the song of your existence. You would grieve for what you lost, for the poet who left you behind. Because unlike before, you weren’t trying to swim in the ocean of grief alone, drowning in the inky waters of the Void.

The familiars were surrounding your mind, holding you in your grief like life preservers. Kyrie and Nico were holding your head above water, and Nero was there with a boat. You had them there, and they were the reminders that you were alive. Not the pain, not the heartache, not losing V. You would keep those precious memories of him, of every touch, kiss, and words shared. And you would hold them to your heart, those moments where you felt the most alive.

And that, for you, would be enough.

_These are the reminders that I am alive._


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've jumped forward four months! Wonder what could happen in that time frame? <3

_Chapter 30_

_~Four months later~_

_(Vergil POV)_

To say the son of Sparda was growing tired of fighting was an understatement.

He didn’t quite know why he was still down in hell with Dante, battling each other and demons alike hour after hour, day by day. The repetition had long grown tedious, numbing even. But there he was, slashing at repulsive creatures with the Yamato until the ground ran red with their blood. He thought taking this time reflect would perhaps help settle his head and give himself the time to gather back into who he was before. Distancing, coping. Those memories hung over him every moment, and his concerns only continued when his actions didn’t help in the slightest bit. The repetition of fighting was no longer a distraction due to how easy and mindless it was, and that left him open to thinking of the very things he had stayed down in Hell to avoid.

Things like you. And Nero. And the destruction of Redgrave city.

To have a child of flesh and blood was still startling to him, unthinkable. And to make matters worse, his memory was spotty of the moment Nero was conceived to begin with--was it due to his time as Nelo Angelo that those memories were faint? He was certain it had to be the case, because his time in Fortuna was spotty at best, flickering with images that told him nothing of who the boy’s mother was. Regardless, Dante had insisted it was so, as much as that was worth. But there was no denying the Yamato hidden inside Nero’s arm, ripped off by Vergil himself. He could remember that moment well at least, seeing it in a peculiar vision now that he knew of who Nero was.

Was that guilt? Perhaps, if he took the time to actually analyze the emotion. Which he stubbornly refused to do so. Where Nero was concerned he was uncertain at best, and downright baffled at most--taking the time to pick apart what he was feeling or should be feeling was just not something within his realm of capabilities. He was no father, no parent, and it was far too late to even begin thinking of trying to be so. But the white-haired boy had made it a point to push the issue, even calling him father when they had clashed months earlier. Vergil was unsure how that made him feel as well, it felt neither wrong nor correct. And that all in itself was a nuisance probing his already scattered mind.

And _you_ were a far bigger issue.

He had hoped taking the time to blow off some steam, ripping apart demons and working his body to the point of exhaustion would help him shake the emotions concerned with you. But as before, there was no such luck to be found. You were a cloud lingering in his head, fogging his senses and bringing an unbelievable sense of confusion and conflict. Maybe staying in hell would help muddy those memories, distancing him from them and making them seem less like his own? 

No no, things were never that easy. You were ever present, the image of you staring at him with that expression of agony burned into his retinas. Even now, clashing swords with Dante for what had to be a hundredth time, Vergil was thinking about you--he could remember your taste on his tongue, the feeling of your hands stroking through his hair. His, or V’s? But V was him in a way, a part of him. And the more he tried to piece that together, the more blurred the disconnect became.

_It was madness._

His focus waned again, feet stumbling to the side and giving Dante an opening to kick him back. Vergil let out a grunt, taking the blow to the chest and skidding into a kneeling position a few feet away. Damn it--again with this. Why wouldn’t his mind repair itself, let these things go? He spat blood out onto the floor, wiping his mouth with the back of the hand while meeting Dante’s exhausted gaze. Speaking of the annoying devil hunter, he hadn’t spoken a damn word about leaving in any of the days the spent fighting. Not a peep. He had taken fight after fight without complaint, aiding Vergil in the killing of demons with nothing but a smirk and the occasion joke and jibe. When was the last time Vergil spent so much time with his sibling? Surely back when they were kids, those memories or fighting, sparring, and playing seeming so foreign now.

His lack of complaint was baffling to the older male. Surely he was tiring of the fighting, of hell itself? Didn’t he have better things to do than sit there clashing swords for months at a time?

Dante let out a low, heavy sigh when Vergil stabbed the Yamato into the ground and sat back for another moment. A break of sorts, time for both of them to catch their breath. It was in moments like these that Vergil found his thoughts most muddled, flickering between memory after memory in an attempt to clean up the mess. Not like it was working, instead it was bringing forth new, lighter images to the surface. It was getting so bad now that the son of Sparda could directly recall the texture of your skin, how it felt to kiss you. And with those thoughts came emotions, ones that Vergil could not make heads or tales of. He worried about you--had Nero kept to his word, taking you to safety once he had left? Were you recovering from what happened in the Qliphoth?

Foolish. _Foolish._

 _You deserve this_ , That voice in the back of his head hissed, growing louder with each passing day, _If anyone deserves the title of fool, it is you. Go back to the human world and face what you have done to them, to her._

Vergil gritted his teeth, rubbing a hand over the back of his head and letting out a heavy sigh of annoyance. His head truly was a mess, filled with self-deprecating thoughts that refused to go away. In reality...he knew, deep down. Knew that staying in hell was his way of hiding, of running away from the situation waiting for him if he were to return. He refused to admit fear in regards to anything, but with this...the uncertainty was stifling, leaving him more anxious than he had felt in some time and hesitating in this position without moving forward. And that was not in his nature.

_You are a fool. A fool. This is not about you, it’s about them! It’s--_

“You’re gettin sloppy,” Dante clicked his tongue a few times, drawing Vergil out of his contemplation and making his grey eyes snap to attention. Dante was sprawled out on the ground, laying like he was in a bed at home without a care in the world, “You’ve lost the last three times we fought. Finally outta steam, you stubborn bastard?”

Vergil narrowed his eyes, letting out a snort of annoyance as he looked away from his brother, “Nonsense. I won at least one of those times, you’ve just gotten _lucky.”_

Damn him for being right. Vergil _was_ getting sloppy in his distracted state, of that he was incredibly certain.

Dante laughed lightly, putting a hand to his unshaven face and rubbing it down to his chin with a groan, “Don’t you ever get tired of fighting, brother?” He tilted his head, glancing at Vergil with a searching gaze as he continued, “Four months down here, and you’re still chugging along. You look like shit.”

“Surely you jest,” Vergil scoffed, waving away his brothers words with a flick of his fingers. He refused to admit Dante was correct in any capacity, not in a million years “Are you in any position to tell me of how I appear? You’re repulsive.”

Dante rose a brow, lifting one of his arms and taking one disgusting, experimental sniff of his own armpit. Vergil resisted rolling his eyes, he really did, but to no avail. Especially when Dante scrunched up his face in disgust at what awaited his nostrils, letting out a little cough and immediately flopping the appendage back to the floor. _Disgusting._ He had always been that way, lacking in class and proper hygiene. Vergil could remember Dante playing in the mud when they were kids, bringing in filthy frogs to show their mother or handfuls of bugs. She hadn’t approved.

“Ya got me there,” Dante chortled in a strained tone, wincing a bit as he shifted again, “I definitely need a shower, but then again so do you. Got a whiff of you back there during our fight and hooo boy--you are _ripe,_ buddy.”

On any normal day Vergil would have been aggravated by his words, tempted to unsheathe the Yamato and stab him for such a remark. But instead...he thought of you, of a moment shared that he didn’t recall before. The day was somehow clear to him, the image of you and himself walking through a sewer system below Redgrave. Your elbows were scraped, thigh highs torn in some places. _We had fallen through the ground, had we not?_

 _“I...It’s strange. I guess I just miss the warmth,_ ” The memory flickered through his mind, showing you walking and playing with a strand of your hair while you spoke about why you were so fixated on taking a shower of your own, _“Showers are very comforting--I like the feeling of lathering my hair and decompressing. I just...haven’t felt it in a while.”_

Vergil felt his body stiffen, eyes drifting away from his brother again as he pushed the emotions back. That dull ache bloomed in his chest, hand reflexively lifting to rub at the spot as if it would somehow make it go away. There was no such success.

“...Perhaps.” He muttered, but completely refusing to confirm Dante’s claim in the same way he had. It would be more than degrading to smell himself.

Dante chuckled again, but fell quiet after that. Oddly enough, Vergil wished he would keep up his useless chatter. Anything was better than leaving his own mind to its devices, because they drifted back to you and his guilt over Nero without fail. Vergil himself was not good at coming up with discussions to keep with his sibling, and he certainly didn’t like to be the one to initiate them. If he had his way, these thoughts of his would be easily tamed and avoided, allowing him to move on without any complaint. Instead...it was under his skin, _you_ were. And worse, bottling it up inside made him feel on edge, like a ticking bomb waiting to tick off. This was behold his comprehension skills, beyond anything he was used to.

If he was willing to be honest with himself, he might admit that he was...worried. About everything, edging toward being afraid to try and return. What would you look like now? Would there still be that hollow, agonized look in your eyes? Would Nero still gaze upon him with anger and hurt as well? Vergil didn’t want to think these things, they were driving him mad and making him irritable to boot. Too long in his life had he ignored his traumas, his haunting memories in an attempt to make himself numb to it all, cold. Unfeeling. And yet here he was, awash with uncertainties and whirling thoughts that seemingly didn’t belong to him. Or did they?

_This is your punishment for what you have done._

“...So,” Dante’s quiet voice, sounding a lot more serious and uncharacteristic of him snapped Vergil to attention again. He turned back, seeing his younger sibling now sitting up and staring at him with steady, grayish-blue eyes. There was patience there mingling with concern, seeming far beyond Dante’s years as he asked his older twin, “When are you going to talk about it?”

Vergil felt his spine stiffen, knowing exactly what Dante was implying by those meaningful words alone. For a moment, disbelief passed through him, adding to the irritation as he held Dante’s gaze. There was no way he was that transparent, was there? He had kept his composure, fought and killed demons with skill and precision like always. There had been no indication that he was struggling other than the occasion slip up, but even then that could be contributed to exhaustion. But even that was a first for the surly man--he rarely tired, and even when he did it never tended to show or slow him down. There was a will inside of him, a need to keep going and pursue power and greater things.

Only now Vergil was feeling a bit...off. After fighting for four months it was to be expected, but this felt different from exhaustion. More like...well, he wasn’t sure what it was.

“There is nothing to talk about,” He quipped, brain shutting down any notion of discussing things so personal with his brother. The Yamato was back in his hand a moment later, fingers gripping the handle tightly as he went to rise to his feet, “If you want to babble on about things unimportant, that’s your choice.”

_She isn’t unimportant! And neither is Nero!_

Vergil gritted his teeth, putting a hand to the left side of his temple when a dull ache passed through. He felt at odds with his own head, emotions far too out of control and bouncing all over the place. Untethered, unsteady. This was not like him, but what could be done about it? Guilt, affections, worry...He had always tried to stifle such feelings before the spark could even grow, but now they were a raging inferno eclipsing everything else. Had splitting himself in two really effected him that much? There was no place for things for fear and uncertainty in the son of Sparda, he had always told himself that.

But...when did those things seem to stop mattering? He had changed.

Dante let out a light snort at his aggressive words, rolling his eyes and flopping back again, “Still too much of a coward to stand up and hear the music? Thought you had at least taken a little of that stick out of your ass.”

Vergil most certainly didn’t like being called a coward. Especially not by Dante.

His fingers twitched on the Yamato’s handle, sending a phantom blade shooting right at the prone man--which was easily deflected by him tiredly raising his own sword. Honestly Vergil would have mustered more of an attack, but...he was more exhausted than he cared to admit.

“You shouldn’t be so presumptuous, brother,” The word was spat mockingly, Vergil’s bad mood tripling as he glared at the younger of the two, “There is nothing to speak of, so drop the subject or--”

“Oh come off it, Vergil!” Dante cut him off, letting out an exhausted groan as he sat up again. He wasn’t glaring as his brother expected him to be, but somehow that steady look of understanding was even worse, “You’ve been getting more and more off since we came down here. How long are you going to keep running away, hiding in hell away from your problems? That’s all this is, isn’t it?” He gestured broadly around, taking in all the dead bodies of disintegrating demons and slice marks from the Yamato, “A distraction, and a shitty one at that. You just don’t know how to handle anything--just like when we were kids.”

_He’s right. You are a coward._

That clicked Vergil’s anger back into overdrive, flipping himself up with the Yamato already raised to slash at his sibling lying on the floor. _God damn it-_ -how dare he look at him with those condescending eyes, calling out all the things holding him down? More than anything, the Sparda was furious that Dante had nailed all his emotions right on the head, forcing him to mentally address them when he was trying so hard not to. That coping mechanism kicked in, spurring him to attack to try and pull them back into the cycle, the one that kept him from plunging back into the memories weighing down his shoulders. The movement was so fast, precise. Prone one minute then standing over Dante the next, sword raised above his head to stab him with it.

But Dante didn’t even flinch, nor did he move from that spot. He simply stared up at Vergil with calm eyes, ringed with exhaustion as he said, “Go ahead. Do it, I’m done fighting with you--I’m god damn tired of enabling this bullshit.”

Vergil froze in that position, sword raised as he stared down at the grizzled man with a heavy scowl. How dare Dante, the crass, loud mouthed devil hunter, try to be the more reasonable of the two? It was far more annoying than anything Vergil could think of. To make matters worse, that hesitation extended to every part of him, drawing forth another memory of talking to you. It was consuming him now, these fragments you and his human counterpart had shared together all those months ago. It made him close his eyes, fingers gripping the sword ever tighter until his own knuckles cracked with the force of it.

It was a memory of sitting by you, staring out at a landscape of destruction and tragedy caused by his hands. Moments before, he had kissed you, tasting your plump lips for the first time as if you were water after days of thirst. You had looked so soft, so kind, more than someone like him had ever...No, he shook his head at that thought, confusion filling him to the brim of his being. It was both clear and muddled, like a high definition image viewed through TV static. The warmth of your hand squeezing his own brought forth that dull, ever-present ache in his chest again and brought forth a longing to repeat the action again and again. Why? _Why was this happening?_

_“It’s healthy to feel emotions, and it’s healthy to acknowledge them.”_

“Vergil?” Dante’s voice sounded worried now, sitting up again as he registered the conflicted expression on Vergil’s face. Damn it, and damn him. _Damn everything._

The elder Sparda let out a slow breath out from his cheeks, lowering the sword as he leaned back and landed on his ass to try and gather himself again. Your words were like spurs in his heart, digging in and reminding him of things that he hadn’t necessarily learned. His human half had been far more honest with himself, and that trait seemed to keep trying to bubble up to the surface again. Because in the end, who was this vicious cycle helping? Certainly not he, wallowing in convoluted memories and emotions every waking moment. And it wasn’t aiding Dante, who was looking like he desperately needed food and a shower. Thoughts like those were the most confusing to handle--since when did he ever worry about Dante’s well-being?

Now, apparently.

Vergil would have thought that Urizen’s memories would have been the most loud, but he was gravely mistaken. In fact, the memories of erecting the Qliphoth and all that transpired were incredibly dim. All he knew was that, in the end, there was no victory to be found other than his two halfs coming together once more, and the devouring of the fruit. Why was this the case? How had his humanity become so strong, thriving so much until it became this loud in his consciousness?

_It was because of you._

“What is happening to me, Dante?” Vergil rasped, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. He could feel his sibling staring at him, but didn’t dare turn to meet his gaze, “I cannot shake these foreign memories, no matter what I do.”

Dante let out a light snort at his words, scooting closer so he could get a better look at Vergil’s face while he replied, “I would imagine so, they are your memories after all.”

That wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear.

“They do not belong to me…!” Vergil snarled in response, running a hand raggedly through his hair and sending a few strands draping over his forehead, “I do not know this girl, she is a stranger. And yet…” He looked at his fingers, feeling a strange disconnect between what was seen and what was felt. He remembered tattoos lining his fingers, black and swirling, but they were now gone, “I have memories of her, things that I should not have. Things that are...intimate.”

How awkward to admit, but he didn’t dare elaborate on such memories. His brother didn’t need to know he remembered having sex with you, nor did he need to what extent of emotion that stirred. He was being torn apart by it, the image of you staring up at him with soft pleasure and adoration and the image of you staring down at him in complete and utter anguish. Both caused by his humanity, him in a way. But...he didn’t know what to feel about that.

Dante let out a low whistle, clicking his tongue as he replied, “Boy, your human half didn’t do things halfway, that’s for sure,” He patted Vergil on the shoulder, tone taking on a kinder edge as he added, “Best thing I can tell you is to man up and face these feelings, brother. They are yours, afterall.”

Vergil scowled at that, muttering so quietly he wasn’t sure if Dante would hear it, “Are they?”

They felt like his memories, but it was so hard to accept them considering how mixed his consciousness felt now. It wasn’t in his nature to seek affection, to care. His humanity had been vulnerable, weak, easily succumbing to your kindness and eagerness to protect him. Acknowledging that something like that existed inside of him was something that he refused to admit, despite everything that had happened. But...that desire was still there, to be held, to hold you, to be loved and protected. _To love and protect._

He had spent so many long years tampering such a feeling down, burying it so far down that he was sure that he felt no such affections anymore. All unraveled by you and his human half, leaving him feeling disorienting in the middle of it all.

“Those are your memories, Vergil, whether you wanna admit it or not,” Dante continued, leaning his arms on his own knees and meeting his brother’s gaze, “That human half is a part of you, and by proxy _is_ you. Everything he felt, you still feel, and it’s time to stop running away from that.”

Vergil fell silent, looking off into the landscape of hell and trying to calm his thundering pulse. Could he even do such a thing, face these emotions and decide what to do about them?

“Why don’t you give her a chance?” Dante suggested, scratching the back of his head and letting out a gust of air, “Hell, why not try in both cases to make amends--with her and Nero? You keep fighting this human half of yours, but if you just accepted it things might improve. Y/N is a sweet girl, and if she loved V as much as it felt like she did...well, why couldn’t she also love the man he came from?”

_Because I don’t deserve her, I never did._

Vergil bit down on the thought before it passed beyond his lips, eyes closing again with a furrowed brow. To seek you out felt selfish, especially after how much you had been hurt by all that transpired. And that was such a bizarre thing to feel--that intense want to put your well-being above his own, to distance himself to save you from more pain while also craving you like air and water. In the end...V was who you had fallen for, not him. He wasn’t like his human half, and after all the death he had cause and the type of person he was...why would he ever put your through loving something like him?

“I doubt the world works so easily,” He replied to Dante tiredly, shaking his head and pushing the loose hairs back in one fell stroke, “As for Nero, he has made his opinions of me quite clear, has he not?”

“Yeah?” Dante replied in annoyance, narrowing his eyes on the surly man with a disbelieving look, “You tried to disregard his feelings and settled on a fight as your first hello to your goddamn son. Maybe--now hear me out, this may be a doozy--maybe you should try actually fucking talking to the kid about why you weren’t in his life?”

Why oh why was Dante turning into the voice of reason in all of this? One would think Vergil as the younger sibling in this scenario.

He let out another puff of air, admitting with several layers of gruff reluctance, “...Perhaps. But does it really matter? I am no father, and he has grown up for years without me perfectly fine,” He sheathed the Yamato once more, scowling lightly as he added, “It seems like a pointless waste of time.”

“Well you _could_ start by apologizing for ripping off his arm.” Dante suggested tersely, brows arching toward his hairline. There was an implied ending to his sentence, one that suggested his twin had no choice in the matter on this.

“...” Vergil didn’t respond, that annoying guilt prickling back up like thorns around his subconscious. There was no argument he should have made to excuse such a thing, but his mind still tried. He didn’t know who Nero was at the time, but even then would it have mattered? Desperation fueled the cracking, crumbling Sparda at the time, so he doubted that there would have been an ounce of hesitation even then. There would have been no other way to save himself from death, even if it had a heavy price. But...that didn’t stop his illogical guilt over it.

Dante let out another sigh at his stubborn refusal to reply, tone taking on a lower quality as he added, “Hell, why didn’t you just come to Devil May Cry?” He muttered, sounding a bit gruff and unhappy as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I wouldn’t have asked questions, could have found a better way to help you that didn’t involve putting Nero through that shit.”

Well now...that was certainly not what Vergil expected. He stared forward, trying to keep a composed expression while he thought over what Dante said, not quite sure what to make of the question. At the time, he never contemplated even thinking about his brother’s aid--why? Because he resented him with every part of his body, resented how their mother loved him more, resenting how Dante seemed to win no matter how hard he tried. He who scoffed in the face of their Father’s demonic power, instead embracing his weaker human half. It had seemed so shameful at the time, pointless. Pride kept him from asking for his brother’s aid.

“You know why,” He replied simply in return, turning his cold eyes back to meet Dante’s, “Asking for your help was never an option. Had I showed up at your door would you have truly offered me your hand? Or would you have blindly attacked me, as you did in the Qliphoth?”

“I would have fucking helped you!” Dante snapped, uncharacteristic anger entering his tone as he pulled himself to his feet. He then glared down his brother, letting out an annoyed growl as he continued, “You think after everything that happened, I wanted to watch my goddamn brother die again?”

Vergil blinked, taken aback by Dante’s fierce words as he held his gaze. Had he truly been affected by Vergil’s death, even after all the surly male had done to him? All the fighting, the harsh words, the conflict...There was no brotherly love to be found, he knew that much. But Dante, as always, shocked him.

“The reason I kicked your ass then,” Dante muttered after that brief pause, turning away as he registered the surprise in his brother’s expression. He looked tired, and a bit sad if Vergil was willing to see it, “Is because you grew a tree in the middle of a city in an attempt to gain more power. Do you have any idea how many people died? Families, innocent people now husks in the wind because of a fruit.”

That made reality set in even more, that blade plunged into his chest deeper and twisted until he would bleed from it. The Qliphoth was another thing he was loath to admit troubled him indeed. Again, it wasn’t his plan in the beginning to even do such a thing, but Urizen had gotten his own plans. But that creature existed inside of him, as did that greed and need for power. The pride, the rage, the disgust he felt for humanity as a whole. That was part of who he was as well, even in these times where his mind was scrambled and trying to balance the level of humanity he was feeling. If you had not come along, would Urizen have been the stronger factor? Would he be even more cruel and unfeeling for all he had done?

To contemplate it was a strange thing.

“I know what happened,” He replied flatly to Dante, tone low and bitter as he pulled himself to his feet as well, “And I won’t try to excuse what has transpired in the city. There are amends to be made, and the gravity of my choices is my burden to bear. I need not reminding.”

“Yeah you’re really tryin’ to make amends hiding down here in hell,” Dante snorted, heavy sarcasm in his tone as he braced his back and stretched. A groan rumbled from his chest, the sound of his spine settling make Vergil wince in disgust, “How about we finally blow this joint? I’m starving and I doubt you wanna deal with how smelly I am.”

That was less of a concern compared to what was waiting for him. Vergil paused, reaching into his jacket and pulling out the only item he had left of you--a single glowing, blue-filled vial of whale oil. He was surprised such a thing had transferred over when he turned back, but...it had. What a curious thing, to be holding something that came from a world he had never seen. The older twin remembered the moment you gave it to him, eyes filled with tears and worry before you went after Dante. A way to find him, a way to sense his location. He doubted you would be able to sense it all the way in hell, but it had remained on his person the whole time. Did you remember it? Could you even begin to think he had it?

That had been the first time you told him that you loved him.

_Return it to her. Return. To. Her._

Would he be able to look you in the eyes without these stubborn emotions overtaking him? That fear was ever present, but was drowned out by that annoying voice in his head. More than anything, he was hesitant to see how this all had affected you, the damage done. That dull ache formed in his chest at the notion of you losing your smile, that kindness that drove you because of what he had done. And that was so uncharacteristic of the Sparda that he almost denied Dante’s request then and there.

But...He gripped the vial in his palm, closing his eyes and releasing a slow breath from his cheeks. There was only so long he could hide from everything, and more than anything... _He wanted to see you_. That voice in his head demanded it, the loneliness left over from you not being there so heavy he felt like drowning. That dependency was one he didn’t want, but there was nothing more to be done. He had his time to fight, to contemplate, and be found wanting. Any more time taken would simply be a foolish waste.

“Then let us depart,” He finally replied to Dante, unsheathing the Yamato with intentions to cut open a portal after months and months of holding back, “I’d hate to stand between you and actually growing into normal hygiene habits.”

Dante opening laughed at that, a smirk tilting his lips as he tried to defend himself, “Hey now! I have perfect hygiene! It’s hard to maintain with bills to pay.”

That made Vergil scoff, scrunching up his nose in disgust as he muttered, “Figures you would never learn how to balance a checkbook.”

“Like you’re any better!” There was definitely teasing in his tone, Dante clapping his brother a bit too hard on the back as he huffed, “How the hell would you know anything about managing money? Ever thought of becoming a business partner?”

Was that Dante’s offhand way of inviting Vergil to work at Devil May Cry? If Vergil was younger and more stubborn, he would have stabbed Dante just at the notion of working with him. Instead he tucked the vial of whale oil back into his jacket, rolling his eyes and shrugging off his brother’s hand. Things certainly had changed, hadn’t they? To even contemplate such a thing was so unthinkable he could have laughed. Yet...he was contemplating it. Where else could he go after this? There was no planning, no other goals to reach now that he was healthy and whole once more. All that remained was a mess, and no way to clean it.

“Maybe if you could learn to shut up and listen when I ask it of you,” He replied shortly, whacking Dante’s wrist with the Yamato’s sheath and earning a light yelp, “I will ponder the offer.”

That earned him a hefty snort, one that was quickly followed up by a snarky, “Bold of you to assume I’m giving you a choice in the matter. Can’t let your crusty ass run around growing more trees.”

As if he would. Vergil had no desire to deal with something like the Qliphoth again, it had caused far more issues than it was worth. If anything the four months in hell had taught him, it was perhaps less was more in his future endeavors for power. His human half, the demonic half...they were both the proof laid out at his feet that a choice had been made that wasn’t in his favor. And that carelessness had caused a ripple effect that had killed more people than he thought possible.

No...there would be no repeating.

He lifted the Yamato, steeling his resolve with intentions to cut through and make a portal back to the human world for them to cross through. He decided that if need be he could busy himself with working at Devil May Cry, easing himself back into a normal life cycle as a means of keeping that distance from you and Nero. This was still a step forward, but a calculated one. A careful one, he hoped. As it stands you were now living in Fortuna with Nero and his fiance, so the son of Sparda saw no need of seeking you out if it was something you did not want.

But that thought caused an avalanche of consequences.

A wave of nausea hit him in the next instant, arm holding the Yamato faltering and dropping the blade with a loud clang. Vergil stared at his now empty hand, breathes coming short and confused as he felt an intangible sense of wrongness spread through his entire form. _What_? His vision swayed, the landscape of hell tilting until Vergil realized that he was no longer able to stand up. Unsteady, unbalanced, light-headed. What the hell was happening to him? He had never felt such a sensation before, unable to register where it was coming from as he fell to what knee and had to fight gagging and a torrent of sickness.

“Vergil…!” Dante noticed right as he fell, rushing over and putting a hand to his back as he exclaimed in annoyance, “Hey! What’s the matter with you?!”

He couldn’t even answer. His vision was fading, body tilting to the side against his will and leaving Dante to grab him and try to hold him steady. The elder twin could hear him yelling, but there was no energy to answer. This was not exhaustion, this was something more. An urgency, like fire in his lungs clawing to get out and pounding on his skull with fists. To say Vergil was unnerved, confused, and shocked was an understatement. He who was a poised, pillar of control and discipline forced to collapse and have no control of his body? It wasn’t right, he had made yet another mistake that cost him his stability. Only this time, he knew what was causing it.

That voice came back in his head as his consciousness faded out, somehow louder than Dante yelling in his ear.

_For every moment you hurt her, is another moment I destroy you._


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this came out so late, some things have been happening in my life and I'm struggling to keep up

_Chapter 31_

_(Your POV)_

Sunlight was streaming through the open windows of your room, draping you in pillars of golden rays.

It had to be around eight o’clock. You could hear the children just waking up on their end of the house, complaining loudly only to be hushed by Kyrie in their daily trip to eat breakfast. She tried to keep them in a cycle, a pattern of familiarity to get them easily through the day. You did not stir, content to stay in bed for a little while longer at least. It was warm, peaceful. There was a breeze coming off the ocean, making the white curtains of your room drift and sway over your form like gentle, caressing fingers. When was the last time you had woken up before the alarm? You could not recall, but you took this time to relax and savor how comfortable it was, face pressed to the pillow underneath it and blanket tangled around your bare legs.

Shadow was stretched out along your back, providing an extra layer of warmth with their nose pressed to your hair. You could feel faint breath fanning you from their snout, paws twitching with whatever they dreampt of. They always slept in bed with you like this, always. It had grown into such a needed routine, you weren’t sure if you could ever exist without it. Griffon was there as well, curled up in a patch of sun near the window when you opened your eyes. It was a gentle brightness that awaited you, one hand instinctively reaching up to rub the sleep out of your tired gaze. The sunlight made his sapphire feathers glow in a pretty, surreal way.

 _Peaceful._ You decided that much at least, lying there with your eyes half closed and tasting the salty air with each breath. Even with the passing months, you still hadn’t quite gotten used to how lovely it truly was. These moments of peace in the morning were a far cry from the cold, dark corners of the Void, and that was a strange adjustment to make. You decided you far preferred the warmth, and clung to it for as long as the morning would allow. It gave you time to reflect, to think, and to gather your thoughts before the day.

A lot had happened since returning from the Qliphoth.

You had set about making yourself busy, aiding Kyrie in the orphanage and balancing that with helping Nero fight demons. Business was booming now that the portal had been closed, leftover demon nests from the calamity spreading all over the city and surrounding areas. You didn’t mind, fighting the creatures was a cake walk. And it meant more funds for Nero and Kyrie’s household, which was needed to help take care of four children. You also set about using your Void abilities to aid the people of Fortuna, setting about odd jobs and favors to bring in extra food and supplies. A lot of structural damage had occurred since the collapsing of a giant statue of Sparda, so some buildings still needed repair.

It was easy to help Nero with fixing things up, mixing his strength and your ability to conjure Void crystal to weave through the cracking foundations of damaged buildings. The material was strong, and close to unbreakable by normal means. Not to mention it made for beautiful patterns throughout homes, bringing in people from the outside to see. The only complaint heard about the crystal was that it was cold to the touch, bringing chill to homes that had to use it. But on the hottest days on the ocean, those complaints didn’t come about anymore. You were just lucky no one could hear the Void whispers from the crystals like you could.

All in all, things had gotten better. Fortuna was now mingling with other cities and cultures. People were bouncing back from the tragedy brought about by the Order of the Sword, and the orphanage was now running steady without Nero and Kyrie having to pinch pennies. You rarely kept any money, because honestly what did you need to buy? The kindhearted woman insisted on making you clothes, and anything she didn’t make you conjured from the Void itself. Food was always bought and given to the household, and you were generally given items from the people of Fortuna more often than not. Like figurines you kept on your desk, a beautiful lamp that illuminated the room in a pink glow, and tapestries to hang on the wall.

The only thing you had saved up and then bought was a set of cell phones from the town on the coast where the ferry picked you up. The communication through payphones was unacceptable once you discovered that the technology existed in this dimension as well, so you set about working on that once everything at the orphanage was squared away.

It took about a month to get together funds with the help of Trish and Lady--they wanted a better means to communicate with you and Nero as well. After one particularly large job defending a concert from a demon attack, you had enough to cut a deal with a shop near the edge of Redgrave and promptly bought a phone for yourself, Nero, Nico, and Kyrie. Your used your Void abilities to connect the phones without cell service, so that wasn’t an extra fund to worry about. It was promptly given to them as a gift after three months of staying together, making Kyrie flustered and surprised and Nico downright jazzed. As for Nero, he was already guessing you had plans to do such a thing after loudly complaining about it.

Regardless.

You reached out tiredly to grab the phone from your windowsill, turning off the alarm and squinting at the time on the screen. You were right in your assumption, it was already past 8 o’clock in the morning. You let out a light sigh, Setting the phone back where you found it in rolling over so you were spooning Shadow’s extended form. Warm, so warm. You wrapped your arms around their dark fur, snuggling in against their neck and counting the seconds that passed by. Heartbeat after heartbeat. Shadow gave only a light grunt to indicate you had even slightly disturbed their slumber, but that was about it.

It was in moments like these that you knew that those thoughts would come back, the ones about the dark-haired poet and his silver-haired true form—all those memories shared with him, and how the had affected you in the passing months. You closed your eyes, still about to see every aspect of V’s face in your head. His high cheekbones, charming smile, those jade eyes staring into yours like you were the world. You missed him with a fierceness that had not faded, you knew that. But four months had given time to think, to grieve and cry for what was lost and pick yourself off the ground.

Had you moved on? You wanted to say yes, but he was still there in your thoughts . And so was the deep, aching hole in your heart he left behind.

You thought you would stop missing him at some point, stop craving his warm voice, his gentle touches, the way he smiled and held your hand. But those thoughts remained, heavy and filling you with longing. Only now...you tried to teach yourself to see the good in them. These were happy memories, so you tried to focus on the joy they caused instead of the pain. How lucky you were, to get the chance of experiencing a love like that in your life. One so whole and heartbreakingly real, one that eclipsed everything else and brought so much joy that you had grown addicted to it. And if an equal part of sadness and pain had come attached to it, then that was a solid price to pay.

 _I will not see this love as a burden, not again_.

You sighed softly again, curling up closer to the mighty cat and squeezing your eyes shut tighter. Too much thought, time to come back to reality for a bit. The depth of emotion you felt was starting to awaken the familiars, now attuned to your thought process and quick to jump in and help when you needed it.

Griffon stirred, feathers rippling in the shimmer caused by the sun and his maw opening in a light yawn. You opened your eyes part-way to look at him, catching his golden gaze right as he turned to stare in your direction.

“Don’t you know how to sleep in?” He complained tiredly, shaking out his feathers with a light trill, “Go back to sleep and shut off the dumb brain of yours, toots.”

You smiled--he was trying to sound harsh, but there was a teasing air to the way he spoke, his connection to you giving off a light sense of concern and caring. There was no hiding things from you now, that was for certain.

“Mmmm…” You murmured in response, stretching out and wincing when your joints popped a bit. The motion jostled Shadow enough to wake them, the cat’s jaws opening in a large, exaggerated yawn as well, “Can’t...gotta help Kyrie out today. The festival in the town square starts at ten, have to get the kids ready.”

That made the bird groan, rolling onto his back with his talons tucked against his underbelly as he whined pitifully, “So early? Fuck, why can’t you just take them out at like three or four?”

Several reasons. One being that there would be numerous performances occurring throughout the day for the festival itself, and another being that the kids were so excited you couldn’t image forcing them to wait that long.

“Because this is the first festival that allows outsiders in,” You settled on the easiest explanation as you yawned, dragging yourself into a sitting position and scratching him under the chin. He melted immediately, body going limp and a pleased trill leaving his beak. Typical, “Don’t want the kids to miss anything.”

Besides, you doubted there was sleep to be found after going back through the memories of you and V. So you dragged yourself out of bed, sitting on the edge to stretch more and feel the warmth of the sun on your back. Those black tattoos greeted your eyes when you lowered your arms, hands resting in your lap and hair draped around your face. How strange to think that you had already gotten used to them, but they still felt like they belonged to V. You flexed your fingers, letting out a slow breath and gathering yourself a bit. There was so much to be done, to move on from, and you liked to think that it was going well enough. The sorrow was still there, but you were able to handle it a lot better.

That didn’t mean there weren’t still nights when it overtook you, though. There had been many an evening that ended with you falling asleep with tears drying on your cheeks.

Shadow curled around your back, sensing the waxing and waning thoughts of sorrow and trying to provide comfort. Warm, they were always so warm when they leaned against you and purred like that. Griffon got in on it too, the sound of his wings flapping the only signal before he perched on your shoulders as always.

“You still miss him, huh?” Griffon muttered in your ear, shaking out his feathers and sounding both sad and exasperated, “Even after four months? That shit doesn’t really fade away, even after all that he did.”

You smiled sadly, putting a hand to the side of his head and stroking the plumage there, “It’s never that easy, I’m afraid. It’s okay, though...I’m just happy I got a chance to even love him at all--it lead me to you guys, to where I am now. And that’s important to me.”

You could feel he was pleased at your words, that toxic mindset you carried for so long slowly but surely fading away. It took a lot of reminding, self-teaching and the help of everyone to even start shaking it. Like weights attached to your ankles for so long, shackles finally removed one by one. Not entirely gone yet, but it was a process helped further by having the three familiars there to check your thoughts. Griffon remained vocal as always, loudly nosing in before your brain could even fully form the ideas you had before. And in the end...you did feel better from their actions, more alive and less disconnected from yourself.

You smiled, standing up from the bed and carrying Griffon with you to the bathroom so you could brush your teeth. Downstairs the children were chattering loudly as they finished breakfast, mingling with Kyrie’s soft-spoken tones. Was Nero up yet? Couldn’t be sure, he wasn't  a morning person. Plus you three had been out late on a demon hunting mission, difference being you enjoyed getting up early despite all of that.

You slipped into the blue bathroom, tile under your feet cool and soothing. In the mirror was your reflection, making you take brief pause to examine yourself--unlike before, it was starting to feel more and more like you every day. Not the stranger you didn’t recognize, not something that felt like a shell harboring your lonely, damaged soul. That smile, hair, face...that was you, wasn’t it? No longer pale after months of walking around in the sun with the others, skin a healthier color and a bit more tanned. You could see sleep lining your eyes, but no dark circles anymore and no cuts or bruises.

You looked...nice. Like a normal person.

“Lookin’ good, toots,” Griffon sensed your thought process, his eyes staring back at you in the mirror from his shoulder perch, “That bedhead does wonders for your face. Goin’ for the sexy, fresh outta bed look? You naughty girl.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling a brush out of a drawer and try and tame the messy locks, “I see you’re already in full misbehaving mode. Can’t it wait until after breakfast?”

Griffon scoffed, his tone full of mirth and eyes glinting in the mirror, “Absolutely not! Gotta get a head-start on my bullshit--early bird gets the worm as they say.” He snickered at his own bird joke, seeming quite pleased with himself all things considered.

You only fought rolling your eyes again, but there was definitely an unwilling smile trying to creep its way onto your face. Damn your sense of humor, it found his puns and jibes amusing and now he knew it without a doubt. The only other option was to ignore him, setting about your morning process of fixing your hair and then setting about on your teeth. Shadow crept into the bathroom while you started brushing, curling around you and resting their head on the sink. Sniffing the toothpaste, looking like they might take a chance at eating it when you weren’t looking. You hoped they wouldn’t try, but moved the toothpaste back to the cabinet just to be safe.

As you did so there was a commotion downstairs, a burst of laughing and screaming children heard over Nico hollering. What in the world was going on so early in the morning? You exchanged a glance with Griffon, turning with your toothbrush still in mouth to walk down the stairs and see what was going on. You didn’t even make it halfway down when Nico ran past, carrying two kids under her arms, one on her back and another hanging from her waist. You paused on the stairs, taking in the kids laughing, squealing faces of delight and Nico’s mischievous expression. Oh yes, there were definitely shenanigans afoot this early in the morning. The familiars summoned back to you a moment later, not wanting to get involved with the kids when they were already so excited.

You came down in just enough time to witness said spectacle as they came running past, the mechanic looking behind her and yelling as dramatically as she possibly could in that southern accent, _“It’s got a mind of its own…!”_ before disappearing through the kitchen door.

What in the Void was she going on about? You blinked, slowly turning to watch a metal arm scooting its way across the floor after them, almost comically slow in its “pursuit” of the humans it was “chasing”. It looked like a variation of Sweet Surrender, but gutted recently and with different parts attached. The frankenstein-esque creation chugged its way over the hardwood, parts inside whirling painfully and clattering with each step it gained. This had the makings of one of Nico’s all-nighters written all over it, that was for certain. You sat down on the stairs, continuing to brush your teeth and eyes following the arm’s path as it scuttled along toward the kitchen door. Slowly.

This was a fairly average occurrence, but you were still grinning about it.

Kyrie came out of the front room on the opposite side in the next instant, beautiful hair drawn in a braid and looking as bright and lively as ever. There was worry in her expression for a moment, probably having heard all the loud noises in her morning task of watering the plants and coming to see if everyone was alright. No real disaster awaited her, of course. Just the typical antics caused by their favorite, frizzy haired artist. Kyrie paused, staring at the mechanical nightmare creeping along her floor until it grabbed a table leg, the little display table shaking and shuddering with its movements. Yeah, that expression pretty much summed up the whole situation. The exasperation, amusement, and confusion....You echoed it in kind, but there was far more of a smile on your face.

You grinned, popping the toothbrush from your mouth as you greeted her, “Morning, sunshine.”

Kyrie turned, smiling warmly once she realized you were there. She approached, sitting down next to you on the stairs and watching the spectacle as well, “Morning, Y/N. Am I to assume Nico released another one of her spawns this morning?”

“Spawn” was a good name for what that thing was rattling the table with vigor. You cleared your throat to avoid a laugh, which was growing harder and harder with the table shaking away.

“Yup,” You replied, popping the “p” very distinctly before going about brushing your teeth again, “Kids seem to be enjoying it.”

Kyrie giggled lightly, her shoulders brushing yours with the movement. She looked cute, as always, wearing a pretty, pale-pink blouse with a white, pleated skirt. An early bird for certain, already up and fully dressed for the day. Unlike you, still in tank top and shorts, fresh out of bed with a toothbrush in your mouth. Not that you’d ever catch Kyrie saying anything or comparing the two of you. Her stability was always welcome, energy and cheerfulness infectious. It brought your mood up several stages over the growing sadness thinking of V brought, like she somehow knew every morning that you needed it.

“They always do,” She smiled at the sound of the children laughing, yelling that they need to barricade the door from the evil waiting outside, “Nero will hear the commotion and come down soon to slay the beast, as always.”

“I could always do it,” You teased, testing your Void power by summoning a few tendrils. Easy, like breathing and the dull ache it caused barely noticeable, “Thus stealing all the glory.”

Kyrie nudged your shoulder, seeming amused by the very notion as she giggled, “That is true.”

But you weren’t mean enough to steal Nero’s thunder. Instead you stood up, deciding that your teeth were appropriately brushed and ready to rinse your mouth. Kyrie smiled and watched you walk back up the stairs, poking your head into the bathroom long enough to do what you had to do and put the toothbrush back. All the while the familiars rested inside of your body, consciousness seeing your good mood and feeling pleased. After all, when you were happy they were happy too. All of them had worked hard to move you past losing V and meeting Vergil, so seeing clear progress and genuine happiness was a gift to them.

You finally finished rinsing your mouth, hearing Nero’s annoyed, exasperated tone at the top of the steps before you were back out, “What the hell is that god damn noise?”

That was what finally made you laugh, a snicker gracing your lips before you looked down the hall at him. Like you, he was fresh out of bed, hair a tousled mess and eyes so very tired. He was dressed in the most casual set of night clothes you had ever seen, plain black sweatpants and a tattered, white t-shirt. You hoped he had at least gotten a reasonable amount of rest, but judging by his irritable expression that might not be the case. The children’s yelling may or may not have woken him up, which you felt a bit bad about, but you knew he would never be upset at them in a million years.

“Morning, love,” Kyrie greeted from the stairs, tone soft and full of adoration, “I’m so sorry if they woke you.”

Nero’s tired face softened immediately, walking down to his wife and pressing a kiss to her head while you leaned on the railing above to watch. Seeing how in love they were always warmed you, like it was the sun lighting up the room. Nero was a bit rough around the edges while Kyrie was soft and always put together, so they made for an interesting dynamic all things considered. It did cause a little heartache, which you tried to ignore because it wasn’t fair to the happy couple to associate pain with them. What happened wasn’t their fault, and you refused to let your trauma take away from the joy you felt seeing them so happy.

“I’d rather blame Nico,” Nero grunted, frowning as he caught sight of the monstrosity rattling the table across the floor, “She’s lucky I took the vase off of that table the last time Julio almost knocked it.”

That made you laugh again, finally coming downstairs and patting the taller male on the back, “Get to it, super man,” He turned to look at you, raising a brow at the nickname as you continued, “The kids need to get dressed for the festival today, and they’re not gonna until you take care of the monster.”

All three of you gazed at the twitching, spasming arm as it continued its violent attack on the table leg, knocking it over finally and starting to crawl along the floor toward the stairs. Upon further examination, you could see the kids peeking out the kitchen door at it, debating on what they should do while Nico just encouraged it all. At least they were having a good time, but you were worried about them expending all their energy before the festival today.

“Why didn’t you do it?” Nero huffed at your words, crossing his arms over his chest but with no malice in his expression.

“And take away from you being hero of the day? Nonsense.”

He scoffed at that, shaking his head as he brushed past you and Kyrie. You sat down next to her on the stairs, letting her take your hand and squeeze it once. She did things like that, little showings of support and affection that always made you feel more welcome. You smiled at her, gaze shifting back to watch Nero make a big show out of stomping his foot on the arm, making it sputter and release a metallic groan before it puffed a little smoke. It promptly died, twitching fingers collapsing onto the floor and ceasing to move at all. Ahhh finally, the beast had been slayed once and for all by a sharp hit from Nero’s bare heel. A fitting end for one of Nico’s monstrous creations, at least in your opinion. It was too bad she stayed up all night to make it only to have to be destroyed on the orphanage floor, but these things were inevitable.

The kids burst through the door as soon as the arm was dead, letting out delighted cries and hopping onto Nero in a show of excitement. He grunted, falling onto the floor under the human pile and letting out a light chuckle as they exclaimed at him about defeating the “monster arm”.

“Ahhh, shoot,” Nico snickered from the doorway, walking over to pick up the now-trashed hardware and staring at it in bemusement, “Guess I can scrap it for parts.”

That seemed to spike Nero’s annoyance, the white-haired boy lifting his head from the floor to glare at her as he huffed, “Hey Nico? Can you stop with the mad science crap in the orphanage?”

She shrugged, walking toward the kitchen on her way to the garage and flicking Nero on the forehead, “Ask me nicely, psycho, and maybe I will,” She paused, looked at you and Kyrie with more seriousness in her gaze as she added, “Y’all might wanna wait on the festival today, think they might cancel anyway.”

Cancel? That made you blink, a frown slipping onto your lips while Kyrie stood up. She looked confused as well, clasping her hands in front of her chest worriedly.

“Whatever for?” She asked softly, taking note of the disappointed looks on the kids faces as they hopped off of Nero’s back. She knew as well as you that they had been looking forward to the fun activities.

Nico sighed, pulling up her phone and holding the screen out for the red-headed woman to look at. You hopped off the stairs to stand at her side, peering at the screen as well to see what she meant. Displayed on the electronic was a weather map, a dangerous-looking mass of red, yellow, and green drifting its way along the coast heading toward Fortuna. A storm, then? The island was no stranger to bad weather being out in the ocean as it was, but from what you had seen before there had been no sign of wind or rain for the weekend. These things really did just blow together without a moment’s notice.

“Says here it’s gonna storm startin’ at noon and won’t stop for most of the day,” Nico huffed, tapping at the screen until different pages appeared, “Damn nasty weather. They might reschedule the festival for next weekend, since nobody has set up yet.”

Kyrie let out a low murmur of agreement, a disappointed look in her eyes as she put a hand to her chin. The kids crowded around her, Carlo grabbing part of her skirt and squeezing with tiny fingers. You felt bad--they had been really eager to get out and have some fun, but now it would seem that would have to wait a while. None were the type to throw a fit or have a tantrum, but their quiet sadness was somehow even more heartbreaking.

Not wanting them to remain upset any longer, you desperately tried to think of some way to help. You crouched down, pulling little Emma into your arms and holding her with her head cradled to your shoulder. The children had grown quite fond of you too, precious and so very kind. You would give them the moon if they asked it of you.

“Why don’t we have some fun at home instead?” You suggested with a smile, hefting Emma up a little higher so you could look into her eyes, “I think Nero has a tent in the attic somewhere, we can have a camp out in the front room. How does that sound?”

Emma’s pretty little eyes went round, staring at you excitedly as she whispered in question, “Will we get to play with the kitty and birdie?”

Kitty and Birdie being the familiars, who the kids had been incredibly fascinated with the first time you summoned them forth. They were all intelligent enough to understand not to be rough with the creatures, but they were still eager and easily excitable wherever they were concerned. Not everyday that a child gets to pet a panther, or seeing a glowing bird. Kyrie had been surprised, but easily accepting of the creatures provided that they were kind to the children, which they always had been.

The familiars roused in your thoughts, seeming fine by her question, neither putting up a fuss at the notion of entertaining the kids for a bit.

“Sure thing, sweetie,” You replied, kissing her on her nose and smiling brightly, “We can have snacks and watch movies too, okay?”

She nodded eagerly, her excitement echoed by the other three children who crowded around your legs. You looked to your left, exchanging a relieved and grateful look with Kyrie now that the kids seemed to be in high spirits again. It was the least you could do to try and ease the burden of keeping them happy off her shoulders--hell you wouldn’t mind entertaining them for the day to give them some alone time as well. Storm or not, they could have a nice dinner by themselves while she and Nico had “camp time” overnight.

You smiled decidedly, turning to let Kyrie take the little girl from your arms as she said, “That’s settled then. How about we get your teeth brushed and hair done,” The kind-hearted woman picked up Carlo as well, both children held to her chest as she started for the opposing set of stairs leading to the orphanage second floor, “There will be time for the festival next weekend.”

All the kids voiced their agreements, Carlo nodding with his thumb still in his mouth. You let out a sigh of relief once they were out of sight--it was lucky that none of them put up too much of a fuss, but then again they were all smart and kind little runts. Despite things not working out how they were supposed to, there was still enjoyment to be found. Griffon, however, was annoyed. He squawked on about how he was right about sleeping in, because they ended up cancelling the festival plans anyway. You did your best to ignore all of it, instead turning back to look out the window for any indication of bad weather in the first place. The air outside your window had looked to calm, but the area facing where the ferry came in from was threatened by looming clouds.

“It does look nasty out there,” You muttered, eyes reflecting the greying light of the storm clouds in displeasure. How did you not notice the shift in the air when you woke up? The grey behemoths were moving slowly at the very least, “A shame, too. We should probably make sure all the windows are closed and that the furniture outside is tied down.”

Nero came up behind you to look out as well, blowing some air from his cheeks before turning back for the stairs, “Damn, you’re right. I’m gonna get dressed first, but you guys focus on the camping shit,” He then paused with one foot up on the steps, rubbing the back of his tousled hair as he turned to look back at you, “And, uh...thanks. Y’kno, for helping out with the kids.”

That made you smile, clasping your hands behind your back. The two of them were always doing that, thanking you constantly for every contribution you offered to the house. It was as if they weren’t already letting you live here, helping you out of one of the worst times in your life and being more kind than they had to. You owed them everything, so doing things like this was hardly worthy of praise.

“No problem,” You replied, tone light and cheerful as you added, “If you want Nico and I can take care of keeping them entertained, give you and Kyrie some alone time.”

That made him blink, face flushing a bit as he turned and saw you and Nico wearing matching, suggestive smirks. He rolled his eyes, head shaking as he started back up the stairs again and huffed, “You two are getting more like each other every day, y’know that?”

Nico snickered, slinging an arm around your shoulder and lifting a middle finger up to Nero’s departing figure, “I’ll take that as a compliment, dumbass. We’re a delight.”

He snorted, disappearing around the corner and rubbing his tired neck. As exasperated as he seemed, he was smiling before he went into his room, which you took as a good sign in the face of the constant anxiety. You didn’t want to be too much of a burden on Nero, or become annoying or disruptive in any way. But he and his wife always seemed to enjoy your company, going out of their way to tell you that you were always welcome. And after the remaining traces of doubt and pain left behind, that was so needed and appreciated that they couldn’t possibly understand how much it did for you.

Regardless, you set about completing the task you had created for yourself during the day. You squeezed Nico around her waist, grinning at her before you hopped into the kitchen to get some toast for breakfast. Things went just about how you imagined them after that, giving the familiars their morning meals as well before getting dressed and pulling what was needed out of the attic. You settled on a simplistic, cute outfit for the day you had bought from the mainland--a pair of white short overalls and a black shirt underneath that showed your shoulders. Comfortable enough to move around in warm weather, which was needed in the hot attic. You made quick work of pulling down the tent, happy to find it clean and properly sealed so you wouldn’t have to do to much.

You moved everything that was needed to the living room, all the while finding yourself deep in thought. Things had gotten so absurdly normal, hadn’t they? Even with three demons rattling around your skull, their thoughts wrapping around yours. You had spent months working, cleaning, taking care of the children, laughing with your new family. Crying with them. And that felt so very domestic, almost in a surreal sort of way. After years of being in the Void, living an existence of Gods and those who served them, adjusting to such a lifestyle was fairly odd. Mind you, those Void powers still existed within you and hadn’t grown any weaker despite what had happened--even if the Deity hadn’t spoken a single word to you in all those months.

This time had given you a chance to learn your powers better, finding a sweet spot where you were strong enough to perform strong abilities without exerting for a while, but not losing yourself to the power. And that was all you needed, enough to handle whatever the Devil May Cry missions threw at you. It was just upsetting the V would never be here to see it, to witness you at the prime of your strength and stamina. There were such incredible things you could do now, things that would have impressed him, wouldn’t they? At least...that was what you told yourself.

“ _You’re thinkin’ about Shakespear again,_ ” Griffon huffed in your head, sounding heavily displeased about this fact, _“He’s been on your mind a lot today. You sure you slept enough? Might be why you’re in such a weird mood.”_

You shook your head, still in the process of setting up the larger tent as you replied aloud, “I’m fine, Griffon. It’s just a weird day is all, I get them occasionally.”

You sat down on the floor, cross-legged as you laid out some bed mats on the floor so the kids could sleep on them. The tent would be big enough to fit them all, that was for sure. And with the new air conditioning you helped Nero install, it wouldn’t be too terribly hot despite the weather outside. As if on cue, you heard a low rumble of thunder in the distance, punctuating the thought with an ominous tone. You were glad none of the kids were scared by storms too much, they would be easily distracted with some food and things to do.

 _“Seriously though,”_ Griffon griped, pressing the matter further and making you sigh, _“What’s got your panties in such a twist today, toots? Did you dream of the dumbass last night?”_

That made you frown. He knew damn well that you hadn’t, at least not today in particular. Other nights? Sure, there had been dreams of what happened in Redgrave, of lying in bed with V and the feeling of his lips on your forehead. Others had occurred too, ones that hurt even more--images of V sharing in your life in Fortuna, waking up in bed with his arms wrapped around you and his breath on your ear. Those always messed you up the most, because they felt more real than anything else. Waking up after with him still gone was...You shook your head, rising to your feet again to head into the kitchen and make snacks for the kids. At the moment, Kyrie decided that they could catch up on some teachings they had fallen behind on, the camp out seeming like a good reward for them doing their work without fuss.

“Nothing happened, Griffon,” You muttered, rummaging in the fridge and pulling out ingredients as you went, “Just...missing him a lot today, is all.”

Nothing more, nothing less.

Griffon huffed lightly, _“You sure are. Wish you’d just forget about him and let Vergil rot in hell where he belongs.”_

That made you sigh, tone heavy at the very reminder of where the surly, cold-gazed man was, “Griffon.”

 _“What? He deserves it after what he did._ ” Griffon’s tone was cranky, so much so that you could imagine him sulking and puffing out his feathers. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was upset about not just what he did to you, but them as well? Vergil did cast the demons aside, forming their consciousness then leaving them to die once he was fully formed again. It was a harsh thing to do, but where Vergil and V were concerned you didn’t want to put in too much thought.

It took four months to let go of the malice and despair, you just didn’t want to be angry anymore.

“Just drop it for now,” You pleaded, leaning your head against the cool refrigerator door and closing your eyes, “I’ll be fine, no more thinking about him for the rest of the day.”

Griffon snorted, his thoughts wrapping around your own like a warm caress. You paused for a moment, knowing that he meant well with his actions. The bird just didn’t want you stressing any more than you already were, which was incredibly sweet of him. But...sometimes avoiding it didn’t help.

 _“I’ll behave myself if you can,_ ” He squawked at you, slipping back into your mind to rest a bit, _“Wake me when you need the kiddos entertained.”_

You managed a smile at that, opening your eyes and setting back on your task of cooking food for them to snack on once they were free of class. Griffon was right, you could manage to keep your thoughts off of V for a little while at least. You instead blanked out, putting all your focus into cutting fruits and vegetables, setting the oven to bake some pastries. Nero was heard walking about the house, double checking windows and heading outside to tie down furniture before the storm really hit. The sunlight was definitely fading now, wind making the trees outside shake and sway with each gust. You hoped the power would remain on, because if it went out it meant resorting to other things to keep the kids happy and keeping an eye on candles to boot.

Time was passing by fairly quickly in your tasks, hands mixing frosting once noon started to creep closer. The storm had arrived earlier than expected, rain pattering on the window around eleven o’clock and the thunder booming loudly soon after. The first crack made you jump, head turning to look out the window to see a churning, uneasy sea. There was most certainly no going out in that--maybe canceling was the best course of action. You got some food into the oven quickly, hoping the weather would yield long enough to let you finish them at the very least. Christ, Fortuna did have the most unpredictable bouts of storm and rain.

It was around noon exactly when a new sound startled you out of your cycle of not-thinking.

You were still in the kitchen, decoration cupcakes with the help of Nico and telling her not to eat the frosting you had so carefully made. The mechanic seemed hellbent on ignoring you, dipping a finger into the remaining bowl while you piped chocolate onto little cupcakes as carefully as possible. But you both were startled by a loud crash outside, followed by the sound of someone pounding on the front door of the orphanage. You almost dropped the damn pipping bag at the sound, Nico letting out a gasp and whipping her head around to the direction the noise came from.

“What the fuck?” She muttered, echoing exactly what you were thinking as she peered out through the doorway, “What moron is here in this kind of weather?”

You set down the bag, wiping your hands free of any frosting and frowning to yourself. Maybe it was someone who needed help, trapped out in the raging weather with no way of getting home? Lots of people had been out and about prepping for the festivities, so maybe someone hadn’t realized bad storms were coming. There was no way in hell you were ignoring it.

“I’ll get it,” You informed her, whacking her hand with a wooden spoon when it started inching toward the bowl again, “Keep your sticky fingers out of my frosting.”

“You’re no fun.” The mechanic huffed, sticking her tongue out at you in mock annoyance and rubbing the spot on her hand you hit. That only made you smile, offering only a responding tongue out in her direction as you headed for the door.

Rain was pelting against the house so hard it sounded like rattling, the wind sending power lines bouncing and making the lights flicker, but not go out. It felt a bit too ominous for your liking, but you tried to shake that off as you headed down a hallway toward the foyer. The banging on the door continued for a second time, rising in tempo and making you frown in annoyance. Whoever they were, they were persistent. Banging like that was a bit rude, but considering how the condition of the outside world was you could understand their urgency. You just hoped there wasn’t anyone in trouble or any emergencies.

Nero was walking down the stairs as you passed them, clearly heading for the door as well. He was dressed now in jeans and a black t-shirt, hair cleaned and eyes sharp and alert. You paused when you met his gaze, reading worry and wariness there in they blue depths--you could imagine Nero wasn’t very partial to strangers considering everything he had been through, which was only confirmed by the sight of his pistol tucked into the back of his jeans. The last stranger who visited ripped off his arm and turned out to be his long lost father, after all. You decided it would be best to let him answer the door, it was his house.

“I’ve got it,” He confirmed your choice, then added loudly to whoever was outside, “Keep up that bangin’ and you can stay out there...!”

You let out a light huff, turning on your heel to head back toward the kitchen while Nero unlocked the door, and unattached the dead bolt. But you didn’t make it very far.

The door was swung open by the annoyed devil hunter, the sound of the storm outside loud and thunderous now that there was no barrier holding it back. It sent a gust of warm, wet air through the house, brushing over your bare shoulders and making you wince lightly. Disgusting. You turned, wanting to see just who it was disrupting the day and half expecting to see someone you knew from Fortuna standing there, soaked from the rain and annoyed. But...you couldn’t have had far worse expectations, not in a million years.

_Not in a lifetime._

First thing you registered was Nero standing stiff as a board, hand clenched so tightly on the door his knuckles were white. Every muscle in his back was tensed, the side of his face you could see filled with shock. Your eyes drifted, seeing a familiar form standing in the doorway, supporting someone equally and painfully as familiar. All at once, your swirling energy spiked in anxiety, that clawing feeling of pain dragging its way up your throat and threatening to release in a whimper. But you were rooted to the spot, face blank and body unable to stop staring at who was standing there.

_This can’t be, not now. Not after how stable I had finally become._

The red jacket was no mistake, nor was the black pants and white, filthy hair. It had been quite some time since you saw Dante, but you would never be able to mistake him for anyone else. And even more so the one he was bracing with one arm, body limp and unconscious like he had been dragged all the way here. You heart was thudding like a caged bird as you took in his messed up, silvery white hair, the sharp lines of his face and the black coat and vest he wore. His Yamato was not on him, but instead in Dante’s hands, sheathed and dripping rain water. Both men were drenched, filthy, and looked like they had beaten up several times over. But that all was fading in your racing thoughts, the level of panic and conflicting emotions jolting the familiars into action so they could see exactly what was causing you such pain.

But they were just as shocked as you were, unable to process the twin brothers were here in the flesh. You couldn’t take your eyes off his face, couldn’t stop the raging emotions that you thought were tamed where he was concerned.

Because in all these four months, you didn’t think you would ever see Vergil again.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got this one out on time, took some days to watch anime and waste my life lol expect the next chapter on monday though, just warning you now

_Chapter 32_

_He can’t be here._

_Not now, not after I spent all this time rebuilding what he broke._

You were staring at the white-haired son of Sparda with a numb sense of shock. If your mouth could even begin to move, what would try to emerge from your throat? Shouting, crying, whispers? There was no true way to tell, not with your lips glued shut and teeth snapped together tight enough to make your jaw ache. Of all the emotions you were prepared to feel, this did not compare to any of them. The anger was to be expected, the deep-rooted sorrow as well. But not this anxiety, this drowning sensation like hands were squeezing your throat as tight as they could. And that was the awareness Vergil’s presence brought--like you were drowning by just looking at his unconscious face, plunging back into that dark place in an instant despite all you had done to crawl out. And it was not one you wanted to feel ever again.

He was there, in the doorway, held up only by the ragged form of his twin brother and dripping water from the raging storm outside. It looked like they had spent those four months fighting, covered in blood and grime that had been half removed by the rain. Unwilling concern for them both came next, mingling in with the rising sense of chaos and panic and making you feel far more conflicted than imaginable. What in the world had happened to them? _How did they finally get out?_ There were so many thoughts racing through your mind that you were unable to grasp even one to focus on at a time. 

All your plans for the day now lie broken on the floor, like shattered panes of glass with a rock thrown through. The rock being the twins now inexplicably existing in your life again.

Nero was a lot faster to recover than you, staring down Dante with a mix of shock and disbelief, slowly turning into anger. His eyes slid between him and Vergil, unable to figure out who to fixate on first. Which was fair. Dante was the man he knew, and Vergil turned out to be his long lost father who had in fact ripped off his arm. You needed to focus on that, needed to pull yourself together. This was about Nero, the events of the Qliphoth had hurt him and you had not meant to be there to begin with. The Deity’s forced interference was not lost on you despite how at home you now felt. This was a conflict not meant to be yours anymore, but as Nero’s friend you had to support him.

_Vegril will take no more from you. Focus._

Dante was panting, hair dripping rivets of water down his face and jacket clinging to his skin wetly. He seemed to somehow find amusement from all of this, seeing Nero’s expression and adopting a smile in return. Albeit a tired one, looking like it was heavily forced.

“Hey kid,” He greeted in a tone just as exhausted as his expression, tilting his head to shake some of the water from his eyes and hoisting Vergil up a bit better, “Sorry to drop in under such short notice, but...uh...well...this is where Hell spit us out.”

That seemed to jolt Nero back into the real world, jaw tightening visibly and a look of exasperation fused with annoyance crossing his expression. You could understand why--after four months of no contact, this was what Dante chose as a greeting? A simple “hey” and banging on the door in the middle of a rainstorm? Though from how he looked and what was spoken, there seemed to be little choice in the matter.

“Son of a bitch, Dante!” Nero hissed, seeming at a loss and running a hand through his own hair as a sign of stress, “You really do have the most shit timing, you know that?! What the hell have you two been doing for four fucking months?!”

“Well…” Dante blew some air out from between his cheeks, taking on a thoughtful expression, “Fighting mostly. Hell is full of demons, as you’d imagine--and sorry about the timing, we really didn’t have a choice when Vergil passed out.”

His words were punctuated by a crack of thunder, making your body shudder and pull itself out of the emotions paralyzing it. Holding yourself so prone made your muscles clench, releasing with a dull ache as you took a step back. What expression could you manage to settle on now? Anger, sadness, or numbness?

You settled on numbness.

“Can we have this talk somewhere less wet?” Dante sighed in complaint, wincing when the slanted rain hit his body and threatened to overtake the doorway, “Not that I’d deny a free shower, but it’s a bit much right now.”

Nero’s mouth popped open at that, not missing the obvious hinting ask for help even when Dante was too stubborn to openly say it. The realization hit next that they had in fact been trapped in hell for several months with no food, water, or way to bathe. You were a kind person first before anything, and you knew they needed help.

_Swallow this feeling down--you’re better than what he did to you._

“I...I’ll get a couple cots out of the attic.” You finally managed to find your voice, despite how faint and anxious it sounded. Nero turned quickly to look at you, Dante peeking around his form in curiosity. Judging by Nero’s expression, it finally clicked just what this was doing to you, because a look of worry wiped away the annoyance in an instant.

“Y/N--” He began, but Dante cut him off.

“Hey kid,” The ragged man greeted, offering you a friendly smile through the tiredness and waving the Yamato ever so slightly in your direction, “Good to see you again. I guess you settled in pretty well, by the looks of it.”

All you could do was nod with bewilderment, reading his expression awash with a mixture of wariness and familiarity. You could see guilt there mixed with sympathy, and a hint of relief. He clearly remembered how you were the last time he saw you, kneeling on the floor and looking like hell itself after his brother had ruined your life. That memory hadn’t left you either, nor had all that you experience in regards to the Devil Hunter. You were still on the fence as to how you should feel about him, since almost every memory involved not so pleasant memories.

Regardless.

“Y/N, go get Kyrie and stay with the kids,” Nero interjected before Dante could reply again, drawing your attention to his face once more. There was a stern look there, one that suggested no arguing or complaint on your part, “She can get the shit down from the attic too while you keep the brats entertained.”

 _He’s trying to put some distance between you and this_.

You swallowed down your emotions a bit more, managing a small smile and shaking your head at his words, “I can manage fine. Plus, they’re going to need my healing abilities as well.”

It wasn’t a lie. Vergil alone looked like hell on Earth, from either exhaustion or an injury you couldn’t tell. But this is where your abilities were best, they would make swift work of cleaning the older twin and healing whatever was ailing him. As for Dante...he could manage a shower, but you doubted the Sword of Sparda absorbed into his body would let you use the Void energy on him anyway.

But Nero didn’t like that choice.

He took a step toward you, putting a hand on your shoulder and giving it a light squeeze, “Are you sure about that?” He muttered, looking at you with obvious concern and worry, “Kid, just say the word and they’re gone--some things are more important than you being nice, you know that right?”

_I’m truly blessed, aren’t I? To have people that care this much._

“I’m okay, Nero,” You promised quietly, even though it was a lie. This wasn’t about you anymore--you had overheard Nero and Kyrie discussing Vergil before, and how conflicted he felt about his father. Despite all that happened, he deserved that chance to spend time with the man and make his choices for himself without your emotions interfering, “I am. You need this more than anything, you deserve this time and this closure after what he did to you. Just...take the chance, okay? And remember you don’t owe him or me anything, you owe it to yourself.”

For whatever reason that only made Nero frown more, his brow furrowed deeply and making wrinkles appear on his forehead. A heavy sigh left his lips, but you could see the hesitation in his eyes no matter how much he tried to hide it. There had to be a lot of conflicting feelings where his father was concerned, especially after their last interactions in the Qliphoth. Uncertainty, resentment, and that deep, hidden hurt that came as a child who never had real parents. An insecurity. Like Kyrie, you agreed that maybe giving it a chance and trying to know Vergil might be good for his own emotions, but...would Vergil want that? Would he even care?

“I thought you were done with that self-sacrificing shit?” Nero said in a tone of heavy warning, drawing you out of the thought process before it could finish. You blinked at his question, a hint of surprise on your face as he continued, “What the hell is the point of trying if it’s at your expense?”

“ _Toots_ ,” Griffon had finally collected himself in your head, and now he was inching toward rage. You could feel his crackling energy on the edges of your Void powers, rising as he added his voice and opinions to Nero’s until you were wincing at the feeling of it, “ _Kick Vergil’s ass to the curb and I’ll zap him--rain is a great conductor of electricity! I’ll light him up like a fucking Christmas tree!”  
_

Shadow and Nightmare were echoing the sentiment in their own way, creating a thunderous chorus of silent rage in your head. You sighed, pressing a hand to your temple and trying to shake it away. Their concern and worry was so touching, so appreciated, but...there was a feeling inside that you needed this too, needed the closure and the knowledge that would come from these interactions. Vergil and Dante could very well stay overnight and be gone in the morning, but that was more time than you ever anticipated to have. And even if Vergil had no answers for you...then at least there was an attempt, right?

_I will only regret the things that I don’t even try._

“I’ll go get the cots,” You ignored Nero’s words, shrugging off his hand and making your way towards the stairs under his exasperated eyes, “I’ll throw some towels down too, just...get them inside.”

Nero let out an annoyed huff, catching the towels as you tossed them down from the cupboard by the bathroom but seeming heavily displeased about it. Dante was watching you as well, expression unreadable but definitely searching for something from you that you weren’t sure he was seeing or not. What did they expect to be completely honest? For you to cry, to break down, to hide? You could easily admit that you wanted to...you wanted to lock yourself in the bathroom and never come out, to act like Vergil was not here and that this was still a normal day with you and the kids playing in the main room. But...you couldn’t, your resolve had grown along with your strength. You were better than that.

You would pull through this.

_(Nero POV)_

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” He hissed at Dante, slamming the door shut behind the two men and grabbing him by the collar as soon as you were out of sight, “ _What were you thinking bringing him here?!”_

Of all the people in the household, it was Nero who felt he understood what this shit could do to you better than anyone. Mind you, Kyrie had always been the smarter of the two, the more reasonable and well spoken. She knew what you needed to hear and said it, was more attuned to emotions around her than most normal people could ever handle. But...Nero had shared that pain in the tree with you, learning of his Father’s existence and the agony it caused just as V--no, Vergil--had thrust a similar agony on you. He took the people who mattered seriously, and was there along the way after you had returned back from the beach that day with Kyrie.

It had taken over a week for you to smile without it looking incredibly forced, and over a month before you stopped zoning out and staring into space while you remembered him. Nero could tell Griffon was trying to correct it, giving the rest of the humans in the house very obvious cues when you were slipping back into your sorrows. They did their best, and after a while you started becoming better, even more so than when you first met them. No more holding things in, no more self-sacrificing. To see a member of his family find their joy again was a gift he was grateful for.

But he saw the look in your eyes when he turned to you.

That look of barely concealed panic, of hurt, like you were being ripped apart on the inside. He was struggling with his own pain, seeing Vergil there after months of wondering would their next meeting would be like, if he would even ever get one. It had taken those four months of talking with Kyrie and thinking things over to even decide that he wanted to talk to Vergil in the first place. But the elder Sparda twin didn’t seem the type to talk about emotions, if he even felt them properly, and Nero was discomforted just by the thought of trying.

And now the man was here.

Dante seemed unbothered by Nero’s hostility, just tired as he let Vergil slump on the floor by a wall. They both looked like absolute shit, there was no mistaking that. But Nero wasn’t concerned about that yet, not when they had punched him in the face the last time they saw him.

“Not really my choice, kid,” Dante grunted in response to his question, hanging his weight from Nero’s grip and seeming pleased that he didn’t have to stand up, “When Vergil passed out we got attacked by demons, so I had to kill the bastards and open a portal before more came. Didn’t actually know where we were gonna be spit out, Vergil’s better at that shit than me, y’know?”

Nero didn’t really like the logical answer he received, despite it actually answering his question fully and reasonably. He wasn’t feeling this whole situation one bit.

So he gripped the jacket tighter, eyes narrowing on Dante’s face as he hissed, “We spend four months bringing her back from the bullshit he caused and he’s going to undo all of it.” _I spent four months trying to undo all the bullshit having a shitty father caused me and having him now here without giving me time to prepare is unfair._

He would never openly admit that though.

“Yeah yeah, I hear you,” Dante grunted, flicking water in Nero’s face and making his scowl in annoyance, “Now lay off, I’m in no mood to fight right now. Just let me call Morrison and we’ll be out of your hair tonight.”

“That’s not very safe, is it?”

Both men turned at the sound of Kyrie’s voice, Nero easily reading the expression she wore on her face. It looked like she had just come down the opposing set of stairs leading to the other side of the house, quiet as a mouse. Unlike him, she was calm and steady, those beautifully kind eyes already reading the situation far too well. Seeing Vergil slumped over on the floor, Dante looking like he had been run through a wringer over and over again. She met Nero’s gaze, her brown orbs so deep he felt like he could have plunged in their depths to hide away from all of this. Already her presence made him steadier, bringing him back down to Earth and putting his heart at ease. Because at the end of the day, she always knew what was best.

“Kyrie…” Nero began, but she smiled softly at him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Where is she?” Her voice was soft, full of implications. There was no need to explain who she meant, it was plain and clear.

Nero tilted his eyes upward, towards the stairs leading to the side of the house that wasn’t the orphanage, “She went up to get cots for them,” He brought his gaze back, a conflicted look in his eyes as he added quietly, “Kyrie...you know that this could--”

“I know,” Her fingers touched his lips to silence him, face as calm as he wished he could be. That soft smile remained, loving and warming him from the inside out before she turned to look at Dante, “The storms are forecasted to continue into the night now--why not stay till morning at the least so you don’t risk getting hurt?”

Well, that was the decision made loud and clear. Nero let out a sigh, dropping Dante back on his feet and taking a step toward Kyrie to put an arm around her waist. As always, she leaned into his embrace easily and squeezed him right back. A silent show of support, his shelter in the storm.

Dante let out a grunt, fixing his collar and offering Kyrie a rueful smile. He at least had the good graces to look a little bit guilty about imposing, but then again Dante wasn’t the type to apologize for anything, “If you don’t mind too much. Just don’t wanna risk flying old douchebag over here while he’s in a bad shape.”

Old douchebag being Vergil, who was still slumped over on the floor. He certainly looked like shit, there was no mistaking that. Nero tried to push down the flickering concern and worry, but it formed like shards in his stomach no matter how hard he tried. God damn it.

“We should probably get him dried off,” He muttered, letting go of his wife so he could approach the drenched male and pull him up similarly to how Dante was carrying him earlier, “Where are the kids, Kyrie?”

“I heard the commotion and put a movie on for them in their study room,” She replied, looking at the opposite set of stairs, “They know well enough when to stay put, they’re anxious about visitors after...well…” She looked at Vergil, clearly implying when the man came to their home last and ripped off Nero’s arm. There was definite wariness in her tone, worry that she would probably always carry after what the son of Sparda did to her lover, but...Nero knew she was far too kind for her own good.

Nero grunted in response to her words, moving to start bringing Vergil to the garage. It was the only place with the most room to put the cots, since you were now in their final spare room. Honestly if anyone else tried to move in they would have to add on to the house, which could be done considering they had the land and plenty of contacts in Fortuna willing to help out. Regardless, Vergil was fucking heavy and lanky on top of that. Dante let out a sigh, taking up Vergil’s other side so both men could move him on through the hallway where the kitchen was. He still had the energy for that, at least.

They had barely made it halfway down the hallway to the kitchen when Nico came rushing out, the impatience on her face turning into blank shock when she saw the procession there blocking her way. Nero might have laughed if not for how irritated he was, it was almost comical watching her face change expressions as her eyes took in each man one by one. Dante first, seeming startled to see his rugged face again after so many months. Then Nero, who looked fairly ticked off and jaw tight enough to snap bone in that moment.

Then finally Vergil, slumped over between the two with his head hanging limply from his shoulders. And in order, shock formed, then worry, and finally that deep rage he knew she would have at the sight of his “Father”.

“Well shit, Nero,” She said in a tone full of snark, leaning against the doorway and narrowing her eyes on the unconscious male, “If you wanted me to take out the trash, you could have just asked--the can is just outside. I can easily toss t _hat_ in it.”

Okay, now Nero could manage a smile.

Kyrie let out a sigh behind them, poking her head around to give the frizzy-haired mechanic a disapproving stare and a soft rebuttal of, “Nico.”

“What?” Nico scowled in response, crossing her arms and purposely blocking the doorway as she snapped, “Are you seriously letting them keep him in here? Did Y/N see him already? Where is she?”

Nero let his smile drop, a heavy sigh gusting out of his lungs as he shoved by her and maneuvered around the dining table. The whole kitchen smelled like baked goods and sweets, the cupcakes you had been making for the kids left forgotten on the counter. He made a mental note to make sure the kids still got to come down and camp--they knew not to come into the garage anymore after the first incident.

“She went upstairs to get cots for them,” He replied in aggravation, resisting the urge to sigh again as he added, “Make yourself useful and keep the kids entertained while we sort this out--Y/N set everything up for them in the front room.”

“But…” Nico began to press further, but an imploring look from Kyrie made whatever she was about to say trail off on her lips. She pressed them together in the next instant, looking incredibly annoyed and edging toward worry as she swallowed whatever complaints she had. Nero knew she couldn’t say no, not when Kyrie looked at her like that.

“Fine,” She muttered instead, pushing her way out the doorway and running a hand through her unkempt hair, “But for yer information, deadbeat daddies belong out on the curb on trash day…!”

That made Kyrie smile apologetically at her, watching as the frazzled mechanic went stomping up the stairs muttering to herself. Nero rolled his eyes, kicking open the garage door and trudging inside.

_(Your POV)_

_Try not to panic._

_Try to breathe a bit._

Breathing exercises seemed to be the only course of action at the moment, done in between focusing your energy on moving the cots down the attic stairs. Your tendrils summoned easily, wrapping around the bulky objects and making quick work of what your arms would have struggled with. Well...almost quick work. You were hesitating, purposely making mistakes to avoid going back down. Because in reality, this was all very nerve-wracking for you. Down there was Vergil, the man who hurt you in the Qliphoth tree and the fully realized form of V and Urizen. What were you supposed to think of him? Was there supposed to be hate, anger, sorrow, hurt? You felt so many of those things, so many emotions that you weren’t sure what to settle on anymore.

Just thinking about it made you sweat, the attic already musty and hot from the summer storm outside. A great peal of thunder only added to the worry filling you, lighting flashing moments prior and lighting up the dusty room brightly enough to hurt your eyes. Son of a bitch, what was going on? You couldn’t help but try to tie things together, all the events transpiring far too conveniently for your liking. First the storms came out of nowhere and canceled all plans you had for the day. Then Vergil and Dante showed back up right when everything began and, knowing the weather, they would be forced to stay overnight at least--the ferry would not travel with the ocean toiling as it was, nor would the two be able to fly if they used their devil trigger forms.

And that was far too suspicious.

It made you feel uneasy, pressing a hand to your mouth and leaning against a wall while the tendrils held each cot suspended in air. The Deity had been so quiet in the past few months, saying nothing and showing no sign that he was even watching you. But...this had the makings of one of his schemes. The weather, the arrival, everything. Could he still be pulling strings after all this time, and if that was the case then why even bother? You had nothing more to offer him, no more faith left in what he had laid out for you. But…

There were still inconsistencies in what he did. He was an omnipotent being, enigmatic at best and downright confusing at his worst. He could see every branching path and future and manipulate things as he saw fit, so everything he had done must have been done to reach his desired outcome. But what _was_ that outcome? He could have dragged you back, but he didn’t. He could have erased your memories of V and Vergil and sent you about a new task, but there was clearly something he still sought here. And finding out what that thing could be was...incomprehensible.

“Toots…!” Griffon forced himself to materialize against your wishes, the sensation feeling off and uncomfortable. Like rubbing a cat the wrong way. He flapped in air right before you, gold eyes narrowing and maw opening in a harsh squawk, “You need to calm your pretty little ass down and breathe--that spiky haired asshole is already making you go back to how you were before…!”

You shook your head, hand moving from your mouth so it could grip one of the straps on your overalls, “Griffon, something isn’t right,” You looked at him with worry, mind racing with all the implications of the situation, “Even you have to admit that this is all too much of a coincidence to let slide…!”

 _Something was going to happen._ You could feel it brewing like the storm outside, threatening to overtake all that you had built in the past few months.

Griffon let out a low huff, landing on your shoulders and pressing his face to the side of your cheek. It was his way of trying to show comfort, one that you gratefully leaned into and stroked the plumage on the side of his neck. He could sense your fear and concern, you knew that. All of the familiars could, Shadow’s consciousness pressing against yours with a low purr rattling your skull. They were trying so hard, they cared so damn much. But there were things even they couldn’t protect you from.

“Even if somethin’ does happen,” Griffon muttered, tone gruff and a bit awkward, “We promised to keep you safe, yeah? Ain’t nothin’ takin’ you away from us now, we’re not gonna allow that shit…!”

That made you smile softly, another crackle of lightning illuminating the attic in bright light. He sounded pretty determined when he talked like that, his voice so fierce and presence crackling like the energy in the sky outside.

Having them with you would always give you courage when you needed it. So you took a deep breath, swallowing the sense of foreboding that was so similar to what you felt in the tree, that sense of dread that had once warning you of V’s coming actions. You survived that incident, you could survive whatever the Deity had planned, if he had anything planned at all. Maybe it was just paranoia, maybe everything that was going on _was_ just a coincidence? Regardless, you would be ready for what was to come.

“All we can do is try,” You replied softly to Griffon, summoning him gently back to your form and letting his swirling dust settle in your tattoos, “I’m not how I was before--I will not go down easily, and I know Vergil is...Vergil. There is nothing to expect, but I’ll still give him the common decency I’d give any other person in need.”

Griffon let out an annoyed trill at that, getting all huffy and grumbly as you started maneuvering the cots down the stairs, _“I still think you should let me zap his sorry ass. Light him up like a fucking candle and send him out to sea.”_

You shook your head at that, taking the steps slowly and carefully. The two men were no longer in the foyer, which was to be expected. But you could now hear the children laughing and talking behind the closed door to the main room, probably playing on the tent you had set up and getting to do what they had planned for the day. That was one relief, at least. You would hate for them to miss out on anything else after the storm took away their festival activities. A moment passed with you standing by the door, hearing Nico’s voice mingling in with the kids and making sure they stayed distracted from what was going on.

“Griffon, Shadow,” You said aloud, raising a hand to immediately summon them forth in a cloud of black dust. The mighty cat landed on all fours, shaking out their fur and staring up at you with big eyes while Griffon landed on your shoulders, “Go and hang out with the kids for a little bit, okay?”

Griffon did not like that. He puffed up his feathers like an angry blow-fish, beak snapping by your ear as he hissed, “And let you go and see that moron by yourself? Like hell…!”

You sighed, waving away his concerns and looking back at the hallway leading to the kitchen, “I’ll have Nero and the others with me--I promised the kids they would get to see you, so let them have that at least.” They deserved to have some fun after missing out on so much because of the storms, which may or may not be caused by your Deity. And you felt bad about that.

Griffon could sense that you were resolute, lowering his head and letting out a low groan when you refused to budge even an inch in your thought process.

“Fine,” He muttered, launching from your shoulders so he could glare at you in annoyance, “But if the small one tries to pull any of my feathers out again I’m outta there…!”

With that they turned back into dust, sliding under the door and out of sight. You smiled, turning to head down the hallway to the kitchen just as shouts of delight echoed out from the kids at the sight of the two demonic familiars now in the room. You would have to make it up to them both later for being so patient and helping out when you asked of it, but that was something to worry about another time. Your smile faded as you entered the kitchen, seeing the trail of dripping water on the floor leading to the garage door and hearing Dante and Nero’s muffled voices. It made sense that they would bring him there, it was the only place in the house that the kids were now to wary to enter.

You paused to take a few more deep breaths, listening to the rain slam against the orphanage and the rumbling thunder overhead. Your Void abilities swirled a bit, taking in your anxious mood and radiating a dull ache from your stomach to your throat. And how long had it been since you felt a sensation like that, one that brought back all those memories of the Qliphoth tree like lingering, tightening roots over your chest and lungs. Because in the end, the seeds those incidents sowed in you had not died, they had merely been lying in wait for the right things to come along and let them finally bloom into the thorns again.

But you tried to shake them off, stepping forward and pushing open the door to the garage and stepping inside.

They had Vergil on the floor, his face now fully visible with his head resting on the concrete. All eyes looked at you when you entered, ranging between worry and concern for you, which was touching to say the least. Kyrie’s presence made things just a bit more bearable, her warm smile the only thing bringing down the pulse thundering in your veins.

“Set those down and I’ll put Vergil on one,” Nero said to you, rolling his eyes when Dante peeled his red jacket off and let it plop on the floor with a very wet sound, “Do you mind, old man? You are at max disgusting right now.”

Dante smirked at that, wringing out his white undershirt and letting the droplets rain down on his coat, “Can’t exactly help it. Spending four months in hell does that to you.”

Kyrie smiled ruefully, plucking a basket from a nearby shelf and handing it to Dante to use for his wet clothing, “If you’d like, we have a shower upstairs you can use--I’ll throw these in the washer and bring some of our spare clothes for you to wear in the meantime.”

Dante seemed heavily relieved while Nero sighed audibly, taking a fresh towel from her hands along with the basket as he replied, “Kyrie you are an angel. I’ll leave the basket outside the door then,” He scooted past you in the doorway, patting your shoulder with one lightly-wet hand and leveling his gaze on your face, “Make sure the bastard gets healed up for me, okay?”

That made you blink in surprise, not expecting him to outright request something of you. But he didn’t wait for a response, seeming eager to be cleaned off of all the grime as he rushed into the kitchen and out of sight. He remembered then, how you were able to use your abilities to heal V when you were with him in the tree. Something about the thought of using that same power on Vergil felt...odd, a bit strange and off. Doing so with V became a personal thing, as close to an embrace as you could get without really holding him. But…V was inside of him, right? You didn’t want to leave him suffering on the floor, probably hurt and exhausted no matter what was done to you.

_You’re better than what was done. Prove that._

So before Nero could move Vergil to the cot, you summoned your tendrils, wrapping them around his form and lifting him from the floor. That made Nero look at you in surprise, brow furrowed as he took in the blank expression on your face.

“You don’t have to do that, kid,” He protested, taking a step in your direction and holding up one hand, “We can take care of this, just go hang out with the little ones. You’ve done enough.”

You appreciated the concern, but this was only something you could do.

“I’ve got it, Nero,” You said softly, shaking your head and summoning forth your Void power with a shaky breath, “He needs to be cleaned and healed, and that’s something I can manage where you guys cannot. Just let me do what I know I can do.”

He couldn’t very well argue with that, now could he? His lips pressed into a tight line, jaw clenched hard enough to shatter bone as he took a step back. There was no denying what you could do, and they couldn’t very well leave Vergil soaking wet and filthy on the mattress in the garage overnight. You just wished you could push down the nervousness being so close to him brought, your lungs feeling like they were being gripped by icy fingers as soon as your power started to flare into your body. Your lips parted, whispering the soft words of a cleansing spell to wash away any signs or traces of Hell off of him and leave him renewed. The instant they touched the open air, the words made your will a reality--the spell washed over him like a summer breeze, taking away the dirt, grime, and water and leaving him as fresh as a daisy.

Seeing him like that made your stomach clench. Just like how he was when you last left him, when you had attacked him on the Qliphoth floor with a flurry of chaotic tendrils and dripping whale oil from your eyes. You tried to bite down on such memories, teeth gritting as you set him down on the cot as gently as you could manage and trying to ignore the pangs in your chest. Meanwhile Kyrie watched you, seeming a bit worried as she took in your expression and stiff actions, but she put a hand on your shoulder as she brushed past. Probably making her way up to gather Dante’s clothes to be cleaned like she promised and disappearing through the door as well.

“Again, kid, you don’t have to--” Nero began again once she was gone, but you blatantly ignored him.

Stepping closer to Vergil felt very odd indeed, kneeling down by his prone form to wrap more tendrils around his limbs. Feeling for broken bones, sprains, any sign of injury. There was none, no internal bleeding either from what you could sense. So why had he passed out before? The sons of Sparda seemed steadfast, stronger than your average human and able to take more damage than expected. Dante seemed well enough to stand and walk around, but Vergil was out like a light despite the fact that they were “evenly matched” according to Nero.

Was it just exhaustion?

_Stop worrying about him and just do what needs to be done._

You sighed, a small frown on your lips as you summoned the Void powers again, feeling heavily conflicted even before the spell was murmured from your lips, so familiar and so damning as they made your will reality.

_“From the Void, into You.”_

Part of you half expected his body to reject the energy considering that Sparda’s power didn’t seem to like yours, but there was no negative backlash. Maybe it was because you spent days giving that same energy to his human half, allowing him a tolerance for it? Regardless, the healing energy passed harmlessly through his form, the pallor of his skin improving in an instant and his lips parting to release a slow breath. You closed your eyes, concentrating on keeping the amounts small and steady in an attempt to fix whatever was wrong without causing discomfort. _Do you really care about causing him pain after everything he did to you? He deserves it._ Such thoughts kept pushing their way in, making you feel even more glum and tired than you already were.

_I’m a good person. I’m a better person than him. I don’t need to punish him to make myself feel better._

Or at least...that was what you told yourself. You retrieved the tendrils before your own thoughts could convince you to be cruel, the idea especially likely considering that the familiars were rallying for such a thing with absolute vigor.

“He should be fine now,” You murmured, turning your head to look at Nero standing nearby with his arms folded over his chest, “It didn’t look or feel like he was hurt, but I guess he was just exhausted from not sleeping or eating for months at a time.”

You doubted the elder son of Sparda thought to better himself with the trivial needs of humans anyway.

Nero grunted at that, watching your tendrils retreat back into your form then over to Vergil’s prone form, “Whatever you say,” He paused, rubbing a hand over his jaw and scowling as he thought over what he wanted to say. You waited patiently, his blue eyes meeting yours seriously as he finally settled on, “You do release he doesn’t deserve your help, right? You could have just left him there for Dante to deal with tomorrow.”

Of course you knew that. Especially with everyone constantly reminding you of the very same thoughts you had struggled with since he returned. But…

You smiled sadly, eyes traveling back to Vergil’s resting body and looking at the relaxed lines of his face. It felt weird to see him not scowling, brow no longer furrowed and lips parted with steady breaths. Bittersweet, painful. Unfair in all its entirety. That hate for him was still there, the harsh realization that this man had caused so much unbelievable pain in your life without remorse. It would be so much easier if you could hold onto that hate, if you could forget the words V spoke to you and just wish ill will on him like everyone wanted you to. But...V was his human half, something that had existed in him even if that part may now be lost within all that he was. And V had given you happiness, if only fleeting, and lead to so many good things that now existed in your life.

So no...you couldn’t just hate him like you wanted to. And you couldn’t just leave him to suffer either.

_I refuse to show cruelty if I have a choice in the matter, and until that choice is forcibly ripped from me...I will continue to do good for others._

“I know,” You replied to Nero, looking at him again with a tired smile and scratching the back of your head, “But I guess I just can’t help but be a good person, even for the people who don’t deserve it.”

That made Nero snort, shaking his head lightly in amazement and letting out a little huff of disbelief, “When you say shit like that, you sound just like Kyrie.” The woman had been a heavy influence on you during the passing months, that much was very apparent. You just didn’t realize how much until that moment.

Because when you really thought about it, this mindset you had learned did directly come from her. The realization that living was a thing of joy, not pain, that kindness was the best policy when it came to interacting with others. And not the kindness you had before, the one that dictated your suffering and heartache as a price tag for it. But one that would light up a room, that would bring joy to not just others, but also yourself in the process. And it left your life more fulfilled, even if it meant helping the very man who was the source of what had hurt you in the first place.

_Because in the end, he was the source of what brought you joy as well. And Kyrie is what taught you such a truth._

That made you smile, thinking of the woman you had grown to see as family while your mouth opened to voice your agreements with the white-haired devil hunter.

But a firm hand suddenly grasping your wrist made your thoughts halt in their tracks.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its time to get SPICY KIDS

_Chapter 33_

_Oh._

Your eyes turned the moment you felt someone touch you, expression blanking when you saw the strong fingers gripping your wrist. Tight, but not enough so to hurt. When your gaze lifted to his face, you were both shocked and absolutely not to see Vergil’s sharp eyes staring back at you, rasping breaths now leaving his chest and teeth grit in...pain? Was he hurt? Surely not, you had just healed him of all his wounds and exhaustion, which was probably why he was _awake_. Why you didn’t anticipate him regaining consciousness in the first place was a lack of thought on your part, you should have known better and put some distance before he saw you at all. But...now you were here, and he was awake, and you had no idea what to do or say. Or do. Or think.

_Why is he staring at me like that?_

His eyes were sharp, albeit disoriented as he looked at your face. While you were frozen like a deer in headlights, he put his other hand to his temple, pressing hard against it and closing his eyes with a groan and wince. His skin was hot, like a furnace where it still held onto your wrist, seemingly unable to let go.

His fingers calloused from years of fighting, unlike the smooth fingers of V in so many ways. The poet’s hands were cool and smooth, downright delicate if you were honest. You had held them, touched them, kissed them on many occasions. Vergil’s were not the same, you told yourself that over and over again, trying to distance yourself from the pain growing in your stomach and chest. And it was definitely there, that growing sense of grief and loss the poet leaving you had brought, those memories so fucking raw again it was as if Vergil had stabbed you in the chest.

Nero immediately moved once he saw Vergil touch you, by your side in an instant and snatching the man’s hand from your wrist with a firm grip of his own. You blinked, snapped out of your thoughts by his other arm sweeping around and urging you to move back, away from the elder son of Sparda and the cot he was laying on.

“Hands to yourself, you old bastard,” Nero growled, voice full of threats and warnings as he scowled down at Vergil’s face, which regained its cold stare as he opened his eyes again to look at his son, “Touch her again and you’ll learn exactly what it feels like to _lose an arm.”_

You were still dazed, gripping the wrist he had held with your other hand and still feeling traces of the warmth he left behind. _Focus, snap out of it._ Vergil was still a person who had just gotten out of hell, he must have been disoriented and didn’t mean to grab you in the first place. _Right?_ Right.

“It’s...it’s okay, Nero,” You told him, voice sounding more steady than you felt as he released his father’s arm, “He was confused when he woke up, just lay off for a second, okay?”

Nero clicked his tongue, stepping back but making sure to stay close enough to grab him again if he tried anything, which you were fairly sure he wouldn’t. Vergil seemed...off. Something wasn't right with him, you could tell that much. He looked dazed, confused, a far cry from how he was in the Qliphoth tree, full of focus and eyes so sharp and cold. He still hadn’t spoken, nor had he gotten up from the cot or even attempted to sit up. Was he still somehow injured, or had your energy actually had a strange effect on him without your knowledge? You hoped that wasn’t the case, especially considering how much the power of Sparda didn’t seem to like yours.

But Vergil finally spoke, his rasping words startling you as his eyes slowly turned back to your face.

_“Where am I?”_

Not stated like a question, more of a command than anything else. He was starting to look aggravated, running a hand through his slicked back, silver hair and not taking his eyes from your face. Something about that made you feel a little nervous, like you should apologize for something you didn’t do. And that...made no sense.

_He was the only one in the room who had something to apologize for._

“Fortuna,” Nero answered for you, tone simple and clipped as he folded his arms over his chest, “Dante brought you here about an hour ago, he went to shower upstairs while we sorted out your sorry ass.”

“...Glad to see you’re _friendly_ as always, boy.” Vergil muttered snarkily under his breath, blowing a gust of air out from his lips and turning his face away. Stubbornness seemed to run in the family.

Nero was a lot worse at containing his hostility and emotions than you were, which was understandable. But now was, unfortunately, not the time for such things. He was preparing his own retaliating comment, and you had to shut that down before it managed to turn into an argument.

“Are you... feeling alright?” You asked Vergil, scooting closer again so you could peer at his face and try to gauge his condition a bit better. Every part of you was screaming with conflicted emotions and feelings, some telling you to run, some to stay, and you ignored all of them and tried to remain steady, “I...gave you some of my energy, which should be okay. But...you don’t look so good.”

Vergil flickered his gaze back to you again, eyes sharpening and mouth snapping shut. He was so goddamn hard to read, you couldn’t get a feel for his emotions at all. Almost close to a blank slate, but similar to Nero’s expressions with his clench jaw and furrowed brow, eyes narrowed and searching. Was he in pain or annoyed, aggravated or confused? _Why was he looking at you in such a way?_ It was inexplicable, and it made your heart start pounding harder in your chest again, thumping so loudly you were afraid he would be able to hear it. Pounding with anxiousness, worry. So much show that you wanted to leave the room and breathe for a few moments.

But you couldn’t be a coward.

Before Vergil could speak again, a crackle of thunder sounded outside, wind whipping the house and sending the lights flickering entirely off. All three of you looked up at the overhead light that had formerly been on, Nero letting out a low groan of annoyance and leaning against a nearby wall. The room wasn’t too dark without it, but the lack of power was definitely a problem. The kids in the main room screamed in excitement, loudly hushed by Nero and Griffon and voices coming muffled through the walls. At least they were having fun with all that was going on, and that was important to you. It brought a small smile to your lips, distracted momentarily from the emotions inside and eyes tilting to look at Nero’s face.

“You should probably take care of that,” You told him, making a shooing motion with your fingers in the direction of the door, “Lightning might have tripped the fuse box, or maybe branches fell on the line outside.”

Nero hesitated, eyes darting between you and Vergil in a very clear look of displeasure and disapproval. He didn’t want to leave you here alone, that much was clear despite how reluctant he seemed to say it. His concern was...touching to say the least, but you knew how to handle yourself. Even with how all of this affected you, even with the painful feelings and emotions...you would be fine, not as volatile as before and knowing your worth better than ever. A middle ground had to be found, a balance between the hostility you felt for Vergil, the sorrow and pain of losing V to his rebirth and his harsh actions in the Qliphoth. And your newfound knowledge, the happiness and self-confidence the past few months brought to your life.

You could handle it. You had no choice.

“Wouldn’t it be better if you used your tendrils for that?” Nero’s stubborn head was already five steps ahead of you, raising a silver-tinted brow in your direction.

Reasonably...he was right. His words made you pause, blinking as you admitted to yourself that your ability was probably best for such a thing, better than Nero summoning his Devil Trigger form and flying to where the power lines were. Maybe the boy wanted to talk to his father alone? Was it really your place to interfere with that when this whole situation wasn’t your business? It made you hesitate, those emotions rattling around your skull with nothing to tether them down. _Leave_ \--they screamed. _Stay_ \--they bellowed. All in a matter of a second you went back those conflicted emotions sending your heart pounding faster and faster until you felt as if you’d burst.

_You just want to try and search for any trace of V in this man, don’t you?_

_That’s why you can’t bring yourself to leave._

_Isn’t that a false hope?_

You pushed back the self-deprecating thoughts as much as you could, shoulders slumping as a glum feeling threatened to overtake you. Was being selfish in this moment a bad thing? It felt like it, your whole body wanting to punish itself for your inability to make up your mind and Void powers settling in your stomach uneasily. Nero wasn’t oblivious to your internal struggle, his stubborn expression faltering a bit and settling on something a bit more reserved. He had spoken to Kyrie too, after all. He knew how conflicting all this had to be for you, because he was feeling it too. The need for closure, answers, for any words that would soothe the bitter feelings left behind.

You felt like if you didn’t try, they would never leave you. Chaining you down, body left to grow colder and colder in the hollow space V’s presence left in your life.

_Just like how it felt in the Void._

“...I’ll be back,” Nero finally muttered, unfolding his arms and skewering Vergil with a hard stare. You blinked in surprise, further pushed along when Nero snapped, “Try anything and I’ll gladly kick your ass, and then I’ll let Nico toss you into the trash outside. Not even Dante will be able to save you.”

That made Vergil scoff, but the sound was tired and drained as he rasped, “Bold of you to assume that I need that _fool’s_ protection.”

The _fool_ being Dante, which showed Vergil’s disapproval for his brother had not entirely faded. Honestly, you weren’t sure what to expect in regards to that--four months should have done something to bridge that relationship, right? Or at least...for normal people it might have. But these children of Sparda all seemed to share the similar trait of stubbornness, like it was written into their very DNA. You didn’t know the mighty demon they were related to, but you were willing to bet that trait came from him. Eva, their mother, was described as a kind woman and a good person by V when he actually spoke about her. But...maybe she was the stubborn one?

Regardless.

Nero clicked his tongue at that response, rolling his eyes and turning toward the garage doorway. He spared you one last worried look, eyes telling you to be careful and just how conflicted he was about all of this. You felt touched--Nero was your best friend, like a brother to you now after all these months of living together. You would lay yourself on the line over and over again for him, Kyrie, and Nico if they asked it of you. Seeing such a similar level of caring shone right back to you made things a lot easier to handle. Because in the end, even if Vergil said or did something hurtful, even if he provided none of the closure you sought...you still had people who mattered and loved you, and honestly wasn’t that enough?

And it was that thought that managed to calm your heart a little bit. Vergil wasn’t a ticking bomb waiting to explode in your face. You shouldn’t have to be afraid and suffer just from sharing a room with him.

You watched Nero depart, closing the door behind him with a low click and leaving silence in his wake. You let out a slow breath, pushing back the emotional thoughts and turning back to stare at Vergil. He was looking...unwell. You had just healed him, and he was better than how he was upon arrival, but his pallor was becoming unwell again. Paler, a light sheen of sweat over his brow and eyes closing with a light sigh. Was that nervousness there on his face? It sure seemed like it, or some similar varying form of discomfort that you couldn’t quite identify.

_Say something, anything._

“You should probably eat something…” You murmured, more to yourself than to him. Ticking down the list of things that might help, tapping your fingers on your thighs, “Four months without food isn’t really good...Might have a fever too…”

“I don’t require sustenance.” Vergil’s low mutter made you jolt a bit, not expecting him to reply at all to your musings. His tone was clipped, short and no nonsense, trying to nip any notion of food in the bud. In fact...you were willing to say he sounded downright _sulky._

You shook your head, a frown forming on your lips as you replied, “Even you need to eat, Vergil. You’re half human, so I’m sure going without food isn’t entirely good for you--Dante has to eat, so I’m sure--”

 _“Do not compare me to Dante,_ ” Vergil growled in disgust, cutting you off with a sharp look of his cold, grey-blue eyes, “He and I are on completely different levels of need and abilities--his weakness is not my own.”

_Is that what he sees in basic human needs? Weakness?_

Something about his words made you incredibly sad, shoulders slumping as you thought over things all humans needed. Food, water, shelter, affection, sleep. All of those were things that brought enjoyment in one way or another, like the feeling of eating a delicious meal you had wanted, or a cold gulp of water on a summer day. Sleep was so needed for the conscious mind, nothing could beat the feeling of waking up warm and comfortable in your bed after a restful night without interruptions. Did Vergil really deprive himself of such things, in a terrible attempt to distance himself from his humanity?

What a lonely, unfulfilling existence. One filled with only fighting and conflicts. No wonder V had been sickly and frail--this man seemed to take pride in neglecting his humanity.

“...Sorry.” You settled on a soft apology, unable to bring yourself into pushing the issue. You had no doubts that Vergil wouldn’t be convinced of anything, especially not eating food--you’d have to shove it down his throat, and he would not like that.

For whatever reason, your response made him scoff.

“You _apologize?”_ He muttered, seeming downright annoyed by the very notion of it.. You stared at his face in shock, which immediately turned away from you with his eyes shut--he looked pained, like he was biting down on some for of agony in his body, “Are there not better things to take up your time? Especially after all that transpired in the Qliphoth, you still sit here and thrust your kindness upon me--a waste of time.”

His words were border-lining on harsh, which made a prickle of nervousness travel up your spine. What response could you really give to that? He wasn’t oblivious to what happened, and you were sure Dante must have given some sort of explanation as to why you were so upset. Did he tell him that you were in love with his human half, did he explain everything that you had done to aid in his revival without even knowing it? But there was still that discrepancy, the one that came with the moment you unleashed your fury on him once V was gone--he had called you _Sparrow_ , had he not? That nickname was reserved for you as a term of affection from the goth himself, so what the hell did it mean that Vergil knew it too?

Did he remember you? Even a little?

But you didn’t get to ask. Moments after his cold words left his lips, he let out a hiss of pain, putting both hands to his temple and gritting his teeth even tighter. Was he getting headaches of some variety? Worry started to fill you again, especially when his breathing starting to rise to a fast pace and more sweat dripped down the side of his head. Something was definitely wrong with him, but you couldn’t figure out what for all your trying.

“Are you alright?” You asked anxiously, sitting up on your knees and looking toward the garage door leading to the kitchen, “Maybe I should go get you some painkillers? If you have a fever, it should help bring it down too. I’ll--”

You started to stand, prepared to leave and retrieve the needed items from the locked medicine cabinet in the kitchen for him.

But his following actions froze your entire body in place.

His hand shot out to grab your wrist again, fingers firm like a vise gripping your skin. You jolted the moment he touched you, the strange heat coming off from him close to burning with its intensity as you turned to look back down at him in confusion. What...was that expression he wore? _What is that_? Dazed and confused, border-lining on desperation and completely out of place on someone like him. Vergil was not the type to show vulnerability, not the type to show weakness of any kind. But...it existed there on his face, making your heart ache in a terribly familiar way, one that brought forth all that pain you were so desperately trying to hold back while being in his presence. It was unsettling, the look he wore, like he was unable to hold himself together no matter how hard he was trying.

And what left his lips destroyed you even more.

_“Please don’t leave me.”_

His voice was a low rasp, inexplicably raw. As if his vocal cords had been dragged through a river of glass shards. Your hands started trembling, mind snapping back to a memory instantly, one of when V was just starting to open up to you, when he was hurt by the horsemen. For a moment, these memories seemed to overlap, making your stomach swirl uneasily and your heart thud so painfully fast.

_Please don’t leave me. Please Y/N._

You saw V there, holding your wrist the same way Vergil was. Staring up at you with scared, vulnerable jade eyes, chest still bandaged from the attack. Your heart had shattered at the sight of him, like a lost, frightened child who was afraid to be alone in the dark. A child who grew up with no one. Those beautiful lips had parted, mouthing the very same words Vergil just said to you, in the exact same way but in his softer, more whispering cadence. That moment had been so precious to you, the time where V’s walls had broken down to show you the fearful, injured man at his core who longed for security, for affection. For someone who would keep him safe. And to relive that again, with this man who carried V as a small, broken part of him...

_I can’t do this. I can’t._

You couldn’t move, a few of your own walls dropping and revealing some of the vulnerability you had tried so desperately to keep down for all these months. Close to hyperventilating, eyes threatening to burn with tears and shoulders shaking with the effort to hold it all down. _This was too much, this was too much._

_What am I supposed to do?_

Vergil suddenly snapped his hand back, expression shifting to shock and confusion as he stared at your face. He looked incredibly dazed for a moment, like he was unsure of what he said to you in the first place. Was that fear in his eyes, or were you just searching for things that weren’t even there? His jaw tightened in the next instant, something akin to frustration and panic taking root on his face as he quickly looked away, putting both hands to his temple. It was only then that he finally sat up, slowly and carefully so he could lean his head in his hands. What could you even begin to say to him? You could only retrieve your arm back, holding it your chest and gripping your wrist where his hand just had.

This felt...unbearably strange, conflicting in so many ways.

“V...Vergil…?” You whispered, voice wavering as you struggled to form even a glimmer of coherent thought. To no avail.

_Please. I don’t understand._

Vergil was breathing heavily, teeth grit like he was in absolute agony. He didn’t meet your gaze, didn’t remove his hands from his face as he struggled through whatever was affecting him so heavily.

_Why? Why does he look like he’s in pain?_

_I’m the one who was hurt._

_I’m the one who was ripped to pieces._

_“What is happening to me?_ ” He hissed, tone harsh and laced with agony and frustration. You watched his fingernails dig into the skin of his forehead, shoulders hunched with the strain of holding himself in check, _“I cannot...this is...this…”_

Something was wrong with him, that much was growing clearer and clearer by the moment. He was not himself--not that you knew who that person even was to begin with, but he was suffering from some sort of ailment. That was what this was, correct? A brief moment of confusion, his mind feeling a bit delirious so he grabbed you and spoke without meaning anything by it. Not like with V, who was vulnerable and aching for your presence to make him feel safe. That made more sense than whatever else you could think up, it was all your mind could force itself to handle at the moment. Because expecting anything else was foolish, and it would only lead you back on that path to pain you and the others had worked so hard to pull you from.

But…V was a part of him too. If V had those traumas and vulnerabilities, shouldn’t Vergil have them too?

_Stop that. He needs help. This isn’t about you anymore._

You swallowed your emotions again, lowering your hands and trying to keep your voice steady and calm, “Please...lie back down. You’re clearly unwell, and I can help if you’ll let me--you probably have a fever, so some medicine and food will do you good.”

Vergil remained silent for a long moment, breathes measured and hands still holding his face. He was thinking hard, you could practically see the wheels in his head turning. His actions had disturbed himself just as much as they had affected you, leaving an air of uncertainty and disbelief from the once-steady man. And judging by what you knew of Vergil, anything less than absolute control and poise was unacceptable, downright unsettling for a half-demon of his caliber. Those four months did a number on him, there was no denying that, and events of the Qliphoth be damned--you were a good person, a better one than him, and you would rather help if you could rather than indulge in that bitterness that remained.

From what he and his human counterpart had done to you, from the knowledge of all the death Urizen had caused.

“...” He still remained silent, letting out a shuddering breath and tapping one finger rhythmically on his temple. Like he was counting, or trying to find some sense of control. You didn’t know if he found it, but he did finally find his voice after a solid minute of you patiently waiting.

“You...are truly foolish, aren’t you?” He removed his hands from his face, ever so slowly resting them on his thighs and keeping his tired gaze straight ahead as he continued on, “Only a fool would try so desperately to help someone who caused their suffering, someone like me. I cannot fathom why you continue to try--do you wish for an apology? An explanation on things I do not understand? It is pointless.”

_It will not change that V is gone._

You bit down hard on the anger and indignation that threatened to rise at his words, one clearly meant as a challenge. He almost sounded...angry, frustrated. Like your kindness upset him, made him feel uncomfortable. But at the end of the day, your mind was still trying to figure him out, making comparisons between the things V had told you during your travels, the vulnerabilities he shared.

_Did Vergil not like your kindness...because he felt like he didn’t deserve it?_

“...I’ll be damned if I don’t try,” You whispered in reply to him, eyes staring unyieldingly at his face despite the fact that he wouldn’t look at you, “I don’t expect an apology...I expected nothing from the start, make no mistake of that.”

That made Vergil finally turn his cold gaze back to you, brow furrowed and a very harsh look of frustration and confusion lining his features. You held fast, unwavering and trying to hold as steady as you could under the weight of his stare. There was nothing to explain to him, especially not when he was so hellbent on not providing even an ounce of information to you in return. This was meant to be an equal trade, one which you refused to come up empty on. But...if he truly didn’t know anything like he claimed, then this interaction only served as a means to rip open your old wounds. And shockingly enough...that was fine to you, because there was at least an attempt.

You could move on from this. Life would continue even when the time came for him to leave, even if you never saw him again.

_Because what I have is enough._

_….Right?_

Vergil opened his mouth to say something, but you never got the chance to figure out what. Another great peal of thunder crackled outside, the wind picking up and making the shutters of the garage door rattle loudly. For a moment, you paused, a sensation of foreboding prickling on your spine that made you...heavily uneasy. What was this sensation, creeping its way back into your body? Heavy, suffocating, settling in your lungs like lead weights and drowning out everything else.

A hard chill swept over your skin as you realized just what this feeling was. That spike of pain in your chest, that burning ache of warning that curled into a ball that refused to leave. When had you felt this last? In the Qliphoth, when it was attacking you from the inside and breaking you down to nothingness. Even on the demon hunting trips with Nero, even during all the fighting and working it hadn’t flared once on you to signal an oncoming danger or attack. But it was now, and it was so startling it made you freeze in place, eyes wide and ears now straining to hear any sound that would reach you.

_This was the feeling of Foresight._

_Something is wrong._

You immediately jolted to your feet, rushing to open the kitchen door and looking out the window while the storm raged on. It was barely visible with how heavy the rain was, wind making the trees bend and sway and bow. You searched for any sight of Nero at the power box outside, but saw no trace of him at all. Where had he gone? More looking yielded no results, so you moved your gaze to the beach for any sight of him there--and that was where you finally got the results you sought, but they were definitely the ones you had hoped to god wouldn’t be there.

The outline of his form was fuzzy through all the water pounding away outside, but he was there on the shore… surrounded by other unfamiliar, lurching shapes, clashing with his sword over and over again. Fear and shock filled you, watching Nero kick something away and swing around to punch another in the face. Even with the low visibility, there was no mistaking what he was brawling with.

Those were demons.

“Son of a bitch!” You whispered, immediately bolting to the foyer with your heart leaping into your throat. All thoughts of Vergil were now forgotten, your mind snapping to focus on the now-apparent danger just outside the Orphanage. They were close, too close to your home where the children played unaware, and that was not acceptable. You hadn’t seen demons attack Fortuna in all your time there, but you couldn’t afford to wonder what the hell was going on anymore.

You whipped open the door to the front room just as gunshots rang out from Nero’s gun outside, making Nico, Kyrie and the kids gasp and turn to look at you--The red headed woman was sitting with a basket, probably waiting for the power to turn back on for her to continue washing Dante’s clothes and coming to the living room to spend some time with the kids. This was better, you wouldn’t have to search them out. Griffon and Shadow had already sensed your panic, materialized into dust and absorbing into you before the door had opened completely.

“Kyrie, get the kids to the safe room…!” You told her frantically, meeting her startled brown eyes and watching as she immediately stood and picked up Carlo into her arms. Fear and worry were in her eyes, but she was surprisingly steady in the face of danger. You just wished this wasn’t happening--the poor kids had enough problems during the day, and now there was added fear and worry to boot. Julio took Emma and Kyle’s hands, the calmest of the group as he tugged them along after Kyrie in the direction of the hidden room made for just these occasions--it was behind a painting, connected to a tunnel underneath the streets that would lead outside if needed. Created back in the days where the Order of the Sword was prevalent.

Nico sprang into action as soon as the kids were on their way, expression hard and determined as she followed you quickly to the back door, “How many are we talkin?” She asked, trying to peer out the window through the rain, but having no luck.

You lifted your left arm, fingers flexing as you recited the spell to summon forth your gauntlet to your form, the very same one Nico made for you all those months ago. It appeared in a cloud of black crystal, materializing in those tantalizing swirls of metal and sharp claws up to your knuckles. The daggers came next, forming with a low flip before you tucked them onto the straps on the side of your outfit. You had not been planning to fight against demons today, but you were prepared for anything if need be--you weren’t ignorant to the danger that could always come, but you didn’t want it happening so close to home.

“I don’t know,” You replied to Nico, turning to face her with determined eyes, “Think you can get some sniper shots off from the attic? We could use the back up.”

“You bet your ass I can...! I’ll--”

“‘Scuse me ladies!”

Both of you blinked at the sound of Dante’s voice, the taller male appeared behind you both and quickly brushing past in a dash for the door. He was now clean, thankfully, wearing black sweat pants and a grey t-shirt--absolutely no shoes to be found. His hair was still wet from the shower, about to be even more so as he bolted out the door for the fighting on the beach. You realized belatedly he must have heard the gunshots while getting dressed, realizing something was wrong and rushing to come down and help. He was a demon hunter after all, you wouldn’t be shocked if he had sensed them once the fighting got close enough. He met your gaze briefly before he zipped outside, the rain soaking him in an instant and plastering the t-shirt to his chest as he bolted for Nero and the demon horde.

There was a deep, humorous part of you that wanted to make a joke about wet t-shirt contests, but now was not the time.

 _“Gross,_ ” Griffon groaned in complaint in your head, his energy crackling eagerly for battle, “ _Stop day dreaming and get the fuck out there, toots…!”_

“Good fuckin’ lord,” Nico muttered just as you were about to head out into the rain, turning to head for her stuff in the garage. But she stopped in her tracks, eyes narrowing with hatred and anger as she snapped, “Oh, you have got to be kiddin’ me.”

Everything seemed to halt in its tracks, your body turning of its own accord to see what she was staring at, even when the answer was obvious. You were an idiot--how could you think Vergil was actually going to listen and stay on the cot with something clearly going on?

When you turned to look in the doorway behind you, he was standing there, tall and still looking a bit strained. You had felt his eyes on you upon running from the garage earlier, but for whatever reason you didn’t anticipating him following at all. Why should he care if something was going on, especially considering how he seemed to pride himself on his lack of empathy for anything? Clearly you were wrong, because he leaned against the door-frame, gripping the Yamato between his fingers and wearing a surly expression as he looked between the two of you. Nico’s hostility was not lost on him, jaw twitching as he met her angry stare with an aggravated one of his own.

You didn’t have the patience for this.

“What are you doing?” Your tone was filled with confusion, body turning to half-close the door to stop the slanted rain from whipping its way in. Your stomach was doing somersaults now that he was near again, that prickling sensation of nervousness traveling up your spine.

He slicked back his lose hair with his free hand, letting out a slow breath and pushing off the doorway to move past you. Nico gave him a wide opening, not wanting to be touched by him at all and pulling you away as well despite your protests. _What the hell was he doing?_ Did he intend to go out there and fight with the others in such a condition?

“Hey!” You protested, grabbing his arm to stop him before he had the chance to open the door fully again. There was no way in hell you could just let him do that, staring at him with worry and annoyance as you continued on, “You can’t go out there and fight while you’re still sick, it’s only going to make it--”

 _“Quiet._ ” Vergil interjected in a short, clipped growl, turning to skewer you in place with a tired glare of exasperation. It made you freeze immediately, pulse thundering away as you immediately released his arm and took a step back. Was it really your place to stop him? If he wanted to go out and get himself killed, that wasn’t your business to involve yourself in. And that was said loud and clear in his expression alone, his eyes meeting yours with a steady, unwavering firmness that sent chills down your spine.

“Don’t talk to her like that, asshole!” Nico snarled, stepping up and putting herself in between you just as Shadow and Griffon forcibly summoned themselves from your form. They were done with Vergil as well, it would seem, their anger snapping as soon as he spoke so harshly to you.

Shadow landed on all fours, red eyes glowing and bearing their teeth at Vergil in a snarl. Griffon took up his favorite spot on your shoulders, his energy crackling and making you wince a bit at the sensation. Well, this was escalating far quicker than you would like, and if you didn’t stop it before it continued they were going to cause a conflict right when you least needed it. The concern was appreciated, their protectiveness and desire to keep you safe from Vergil’s attitude, but...You could take care of yourself, especially where he was concerned.

So you clamped a hand over Griffon’s beak before it opened in a terse comment, letting out a heavy sigh as you said sternly, “No. We have more important things to worry about.”

Griffon’s aggravated squawking was muffled by your hand, his golden eyes glaring furiously at Vergil’s impassive face as you moved to open the door and head outside. Nero and Dante were out there fighting, and there would be no stopping Vergil when he was in this kind of mood. The best you could hope to do was make sure he didn’t die in the goddamn battle, which would probably be easier said than done considering how reckless all these Spardas were.

_We need to move, now. No more waiting, no more arguing._

Nico let out an annoyed growl as if she had somehow sensed your thought  process, turning to bolt in the direction of the garage with an air of reluctance. You could tell this whole situation was upsetting for her, who worried about you just as much as the others did. But right now...you needed to get to wrok, and so did she.

Vergil’s eyes followed you as you entered the cold, pelting rain outside, tendrils summoning to snap forward into the ground. They launched you in the next instant, Griffon soaring into the sky ahead of you and Shadow’s paws digging into the sand as they sprinted at your side. You didn’t stop to see if Vergil was following, but his form zipping past you in the next instant answered that thought easily enough. He was still incredibly fast despite being unwell, unsheathing the Yamato and descending upon the first demon he could reach like the deadly edge of a knife slicing down on them.

Your eyes widened in shock at how many demons had converged outside, rain dripping in rivets down your skin and hair. What the hell had summoned forth so many of the disgusting creatures? Dozens upon dozens lined the beach, attacking Dante and Nero’s fighting forms in a flurry of claws and snapping teeth. The last time you were in a battle even remotely this big, it was in the Qliphoth tree as you traveled down it on the final rush to Urizen--this was a disaster, if any one of them reached the inner streets of Fortuna it could be bad, very bad. They needed to be stopped on the beach, not allowed anywhere near the homes and buildings that awaited beyond the shore line.

You gritted your teeth, wincing as wind sent rain slamming into you so hard it was almost painful. This disgusting weather wasn’t helping. In one fell swoop you summoned forth the cane that once belonged to V, the weight of it feeling strange in your palm before you slammed it down into the sand. You didn’t know how to feel when the familiars had presented the metal object to you months ago, but it was necessary for commanding them after so much time spent by V’s side. You had learned to utilize it to your needs, mixing it with the power of the Void to make for efficient killings of demons.

 _“Raze them to ash,_ ” You instructed to Griffon, eyes turning black and hair beginning to rise with the Void’s swirling energy. He let out a manic cackle of delight, taking the order in stride and setting about shooting a line of lightning down the beach. Shadow came next, rising on their hackles and letting out a mighty roar as you commanded, “ _Leave no trace behind.”_

You paused while you focused your remaining energy, feeling the black dust rise from your hair to give Nightmare his form with a snap of your fingers. He landed with a loud slam on the sand, his form now spiked with black crystal as his eye rolled eerily around to look at you. Of all the familiars, he preferred to stay inside your body the most, the kids not to sure how to feel about the big, hulking monster. But he had the needed fire power, and this situation was dire enough to call upon him. _  
_

“They don’t leave this beach,” You instructed him, turning your eyes over all three demons as you added, “Make these sands their grave.” _  
_

_“You got it, toots!” Griffon cawed over the madness, spinning around to scatter lightning over the ground in a graceful arc.  
_

All three familiars started their attacks, in a flurry of flashing light and spikes at every demon around you. Nightmare made sure to stay out of the way, sweeping his laser along the shoreline to stop any advancing demons from reaching the houses. Nero and Dante spared you a glace, Nero’s seeming relieved and Dante’s surprised--in an instant seven demons around you succumbed to the familiar’s attacks, the cane sending shards of crystal out to impale the creatures in the head to deal the final blow. Interestingly enough, whatever crystals shot out chained Griffon’s lightning attacks, creating webs on the ground that fried any enemies who touched it.

You let out a gust of icy air from your lips, darting to the next creature you could find and swiping the gauntlet’s claws down its chest. Where you cut let a line of black crystal, glittering like obsidian and jutting out from the demon’s skin. It screeched in alarm once the black started to spread, consuming its whole body until only the crystal remained, the monster now frozen in its final scream and dripping rain down its hardened shell.

 _Crack_ \--The cane shot out another crystal shard, shattering the demon’s prone form like flimsy glass. The area around you was a whirlwind of attacks, from all the Sparda men and the animals helping you fight. It was all you could do to just pick another target, leaving the smaller ones to Griffon and Shadow for the time being. With your power set you were better suited for taking down bigger demons, so you inhaled, concentrating your Void energy and picking a baddie within your distance.

You took on a shadow form, slinking quickly along the ground so your could spring up and impale the massive being in the chin with your claws. It screamed in rage, trying to fling you off as tendrils wrapped around its scaled neck, swinging you around so you could latch onto its back.

You put a hand to the flesh there, scowling at the stench the creature gave off as you snarled, “ _From the Void, Into Death…!”_

Your Void power flared, spreading a burning sensation through your limbs and lungs as it leeched the life out of the demon, screeching and wailing under your hands. It too turned to crystal, falling to the ground and cracking into pieces. Nero had to dodge out of the way to avoid the debris, raising a brow as you landed as steadily as you could. He was in the process of cracking a demon’s neck, letting the corpse fall to the wet sand so it could disintegrate away. Well now, wasn’t he looking a bit ragged? Shirt torn in places and absolutely drenched in water--you felt bad, had you come out here before instead of him things might have gone a bit differently.

“You alright, kid?” He gave you a light smirk, wiping his hands free of demonic blood and revving his Red Queen, “You look like a half-drowned cat.”

That made you scoff, flicking him lightly on the forehead as you walked past, eyes already set on a new target, “You’re one to talk--now Kyrie is going to end up with more work, mending those clothes of yours.”

“Yeah yeah.”

His glum tone made you smile apologetically, patting him on the back before springing off again. As you continued to fight, your eyes were instinctively drawn to Vergil, half focusing on him and half on your own tasks. He didn’t appear to be hindered, making precise cuts with his Yamato and taking down demon after demon. His fighting style was unique, made up of poise and various darting movements and sword attacks. It was interesting to watch, but you were mostly focusing on his health--the look on his face earlier hadn’t left you, the pain he was in but refused to let you help with. Even now he looked strained, occasionally gritting his teeth and messing up in his movements once or twice.

That was worrying.

You started working your way back over to him, passing by Dante’s fighting form as you did so. Seeing him fight alongside the familiars after their last interaction was strange, easily remembering how they seemed hellbent on killing each other before you stepped in. Regardless, that wasn’t worth focusing on right now. They seemed to be doing well enough on their own, entering a cycle of whittling down demons one by one, combining Dante’s brute strength and skill with your flying crystal blades. A few demons were trying to make it to the street, scrambling over the sand in a desperate attempt to run, but you weren’t having that.

You were just about to descend upon a new group, tendrils forming around you in a flurry of whipping, slicing blue when a peculiar sound made your feet halt in the sand.

Your eyes widened, movement ceasing as your ears somehow caught the anomaly above all other sounds, even the explosions from Nero’s Devil Breakers. You...knew that sound, did you not? Like a crackling, hissing--closer to whispers whipping out like steam. It was faint, but loud at the same time. _You knew that sound, you knew it._ It made your stomach plummet again, skin prickling with foreboding that grew and grew until you were drowning with it. That couldn’t be, not now of all times. Your eyes frantically looked around, passing between the sand and shoreline to find the source, growing more frantic when you saw nothing. It wasn’t on you, it was no where. But it was here.

That is the sound of a rune.

But not just a particular rune. It sounded like a shrine.

But you had been down this beach so many times, you would have seen something like that sitting out in the open. There was no where to hide it, not in Fortuna, not when you had keen enough senses to find it--which means the shrine had just formed in that moment, and that was enough to plunge you into a state of absolute panic. Griffon and Shadow sensed it in an instant, their heads whipping around to stare at you and abandoning their fights in a mad dash to reach your side. Your suspicions, your fears...they all seemed to be coming to life in that moment, because in the end you knew. You knew things were all happening too conveniently, like puzzle pieces falling together one by one.

What it would form was beyond your understanding.

 _“Toots…_!” Griffon shouted, his voice barely heard with the wind blowing louder and louder, rain hitting you in sheets that made you yelp and try to shield your head. That sound was growing louder, the shrine beckoning for you to find it and retrieve the gift left on its jagged surface, _“Move…!_ ”

But you couldn’t.

Something slammed into you from behind, knocking you forward before wrapping around your entire body. You choked on it, tasting salt water and realizing in an instant the waves on the shore had swallowed you whole. It yanked you back, sending you tumbling under the water and unable to find purchase no matter how hard you tried. The sea was swirling with the chaos this storm brought, churning and toiling in mighty, rolling waves that knocked you further and further back. _I can’t breathe,_ you thought, heart hammering in your chest and salt water filling your throat, _It’s so dark, what should I do?_ You fought and fought against the torrent, sending out as many tendrils as you could to root yourself, but what was there to grab?

_Does the Deity intend to drown me?_

But no...that wasn’t correct either.

Your eyes opened in the water, hearing the sound of the shrine growing louder and louder while you struggled for air. And in that moment, you were finally able to find it.

The jagged, splintered wood woven with wire and bone rested there at the bottom of the ocean, a purple banner gently rolling with the waves. No wonder you had never seen it--after all, how could you find something so conveniently hidden under water? You couldn’t take your eyes off of it, entranced by the sight of the rune as it started to glow, candles somehow flickering to life under the salt water and illuminating the ground in a dull, purple glow. With the lack of oxygen in your lungs, a black out was coming on swift, unmistakable wings.

What were you supposed to do? There was no fighting this, the irresistible pull of the Void after all these long months. Under the water as you were, the familiars would never be able to get to you fast enough, and the strength was leaving your limbs. Your tendrils stopped moving, limp and floating in the water as the current pulled you ever closer, drawing you in to the shrine as thousands of black, crystalline arms materialized from it to grab you.

_Return to us, child._

_He wishes to see you._

_He wishes and aches and dreams of it._

You  didn’t want to go back. Not now, not ever. Fear was trying to form, clawing its way through the static and white noise even as your senses started collapsing, one by one. It was too late now, no one was here to save you now. But...why? Why wait until this moment, months later to make his move? After you had adjusted, after you were just starting to find happiness. Was it all out of cruelty, a punishment?

But...that made no sense either.

The racing thoughts started to slow, feeling heavy and sluggish from oxygen deprivation. As your mind began to fade out, you barely heard the sound of something impacting the water above you, edges of your vision going black. The first of the hands started to caress your face, almost lovingly with cold, gentle fingers. A far cry from the insistent, hard-gripping way they handled you before. You didn’t hear the sound of something slamming through the water, trying to reach you as each hand grabbed onto you, one by one. Your fingers, your arms, your legs, your waist. Pulling you deeper and deeper into the darkness, like the embrace of the Void itself.

_It’s so cold._

But you felt it when a hard, clawed hand latched around your waist above the arms, trying to forcibly drag you back as hard as they could. But by that point you were too far gone, eyes closing and water filling your battered lungs. Someone snarled by your ear, voice muffled by the water and demonic in nature, but...that couldn’t be, could it? That voice was far too familiar, tone harsh and grating as it mixed with the slashing of a sword.

Not Nero.

Not Dante.

That was the Yamato’s attacks slicing through the water.

His struggling was hopeless. For better or for worse, Vergil was there with you as the shrine in front of you shattered, illuminating you in its cold, bright light. The screaming of the Void filled the surrounding space, the hollow howl enveloping you in its familiar, eerie chorus. Your consciousness left you, slumped over in the water as you plunged into nothingness, mind only able to focus on the hard, warm form of Vergil at your back.

And then, there was nothingness.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all know, I've been sitting on this chapter for months. I wrote it back in the beginning because I saw this scene in my head and needed to get it out--so have fun! >:3c enjoy the early chapter lovelies

_Chapter 34_

_(Vergil POV)_

Waking up to your face after being unconscious was both a blessing and a curse.

A blessing, because it seemingly quieted the pain wracking his temple, like a jackhammer that was trying to dig its way into his brain. The son of Sparda’s body had seemingly awoken itself at the familiar sensation of you using that Void energy to heal him. It was akin to being doused with cold water, numbing all the exhaustion, the pain, and leaving the strangest sensation of floating in its wake. It was that cold that brought consciousness back. He was...not in control of himself, mind still reeling from the reaction his own body had at the sight of you. Half awake, delirious, but snapping to attention once he saw you above his form.

That voice in the back of his head had exclaimed without words, a thousand feelings he did not understand passing through his tired body. Some his, some felt like they weren’t his. The son of Sparda had never felt so conflicted in his life, awash with confusion and that deep aching feeling in his chest that your presence provided. All his fears and concerns had been put to rest in that moment, seeing your face as soon as his eyes managed to open. While in hell, Vergil’s brain had been working overtime, conjuring images of you unhappy and broken looking, just like how you had been in the Qliphoth tree. But...he was wrong, and for whatever reason that relieved him entirely. Of course you would thrive once free of those burdens, once free of him.

Your skin looked healthier, warmer, like you glowed with the rays of a summer day. Your eyes were gentle now, a far cry from the anguish he had left upon you in the tree--but they weren’t looking at him, staring at Nero as you spoke to the boy in quiet tones. _His son_ , his flesh and blood--what a sensation that was. Your voice was the only thing that seemed to soothe the raging inferno that had been growing in him for months, like balm on an aching wound. But...that wound was now open and vulnerable, wasn’t it? Vergil could hardly fathom the situation he was in, brain scrambling now that he was in a room with both you and the boy he came to know as his own kin; it was almost maddening, far more overwhelming than he was anticipating.

He hadn’t expected this. _He couldn’t handle this._

Without thinking his hand had reached out to touch you, as if possessed by something else entirely. That voice at the back of his head had begged it, demanded it, like you were water and he was beyond parched.

But doing so took away that smile you had worn while speaking to Nero, bringing forth shock and insecurity as you leveled those beautiful eyes on him. _Hesitation, fear_. It snapped him back into reality in an instant, the voice in his mind filled with alarm and pain. What a fool he was, to forget the damage he had caused to you even for a brief second; such lapses in judgement could not be tolerated. His actions had sent a headache throbbing through his temples, heavy and suffocating even as Nero had removed his hand from your person.

 _She looks upon you with such fear,_ The voice in his head whispered, low and sorrowful as Vergil tried desperately to quiet it, _We have damaged her in a way that cannot be fixed by time._

 _We?_ The voice felt like it was his own thoughts, but disconnected at the same time when it spoke like they were two different people. It was louder than ever, continuing to make comments and press against his skull like pounding fists, weighted and heavy. Vergil learned fairly fast that saying anything to you that was even remotely unfriendly would result in pain from his own head, the strange voice growing incredibly enraged by Vergil’s inability to bite his tongue, or perhaps remove the foot from his mouth. The Sparda’s mood was made foul by pain, and even more so by his lack of control and poise.

The cycle was relentless. His loose lips would spout whatever foolish prattle his anger would conjured, and it would result in punishment. Watching your expressions shift and change was only making it worse, adding to his guilt and emotion with every glimmer of your eyes, every crestfallen look you gained in response to his cruelty. _Why can’t I stop_? He didn’t understand, but perhaps it was due to him wanting to push you away? It all boiled down to his own coping mechanisms, and that annoying feeling in regards to you, the one that said you were better off not getting close to him. You were deserving of better.

 _Don’t-_ -The voice was still there, hissing and angry at Vergil’s actions _\--stop pushing her away from us! Don’t be a fool, apologize for what you have done and try for once in your life…!_

He couldn’t just do that, he didn’t know how.

More pain came through his head, aching and throbbing in rapid succession. It was all Vergil could do to put his hands to the source of pain, trying to will it away and find some semblance of control again. But...you started to babble about leaving, about going to find painkillers or something to ease his suffering-- _why?_ Why were you so hellbent on helping him, especially after all the pain you were caused? Seeing you about to stand sent his heart hammering in his chest, the voice in his head coming to life again with silent panic and despair. After being away from you for so long, that longing was alive and fervent as ever.

His control had slipped, like something else took hold of his body.

He had grabbed you again, mouth releasing those words begging you to stay, a moment of vulnerability he would otherwise never show. For a moment, he could not find where he ended and the voice inside his head began, and that...was terrifying.

 _Don’t leave us_ , It whispered, seeing you startled and pained expression and echoing that pain right back with his own mouth, _Please._

What the hell was he doing, what was he saying? Such actions were beyond a son of Sparda, completely unacceptable. And worse...these lapses of control frightened him, made to feel like he wasn’t himself anymore. Through those throws of panic and discomfort was every feeling you brought, and that was just as confusing. At the end of the day, he was aligned with the opinions of his loud, desperate thoughts on the matter of you leaving them alone. And that was what was truly upsetting, the act of needing someone--craving them. It had grown and festered inside him those four months of being left unchecked, ignored, watered by his own ignorance. The vines of its bounty now overflowed, left to run wild inside him and not bothered by garden shears.

_Please. She is everything we need, what we want--swallow your foolish pride and tell her what you remember, what you feel._

He couldn’t afford to do that. Not yet.

But things never progressed as he wanted them to. He sensed the change outside right around when you did, senses prickling on the edges of his skull warning of approaching demons. You had sprung into action without sparing him a second glance, easily falling into protective mode considering the laughter of children could still be heard from the other room. No more lapses this time--Vergil dragged himself to his feet as soon as you left the room, feeling the pain in his skull diminish at the idea of you going out to fight, at the idea of his son out fighting alone. _He is not my son,_ He tried to tell himself. _Yes he is, you fool,_ That voice replied back. It was getting pretty annoying now, having a constant force in his head that sought to undermine all he felt and prided himself on.

Regardless, whatever was ailing him diminished enough to let him start walking on his own. He headed into an unfamiliar kitchen, eyeing the remnants of abandoned food before looking out the window into the raging storm. Through the sheets of heavy rain his eyes easily spotted Nero battling in the sand, swinging his sword before whipping out a gun to fire right between the eyes of a soaked demon. He had a fighting style that was fairly unique, but not close to his own in any way. In fact, it was more akin to Dante’s than anything else, and something about that bothered Vergil quite a bit.

 _What do you expect?_ The Voice hissed, causing the elder Sparda to press a hand to his temple again _, Dante has seen more of your own son than you. Why is that, I wonder?_

It made him even more irritated, that mood cloaking him as he found you standing in the doorway with the strange, loud-mouthed mechanic. There was no mistaking the air of determination around you, ready to head out and fight before Nico had loudly announced his presence, damn her. Why did it bother him so much to see the hesitation he wrought in you? The way the fire in your expression flickered and died, replaced with something far more vulnerable and weak. He was in quite the mood, snapping out of turn when you tried to stop him from doing the one thing he knew beyond all doubt was in his field of capabilities, and that only resulted in more consequences from the voice in his head. Not to mention the instant guilt it brought, which was heavily dissatisfying.

 _Have you no control?_ The voice snarled, sending a snap of pain back through his head, _Is every word that comes from you dripping with poison? Sheath your anger for once in your life and stop hurting her. Have you not learned?  
_

Poison was a good word to describe someone like him. Bringing calamity to every life he touched, including his own family. And feeling such a thing was not something he was used to, having swallowed his own self-deprivation years ago in an attempt to steel himself. Not strong enough to save his mother, not strong enough to save anyone--he made a vow to never feel that weak again, he would gain enough power to never let anything make him feel like that for as long as he lived. But each attempt had been met with failure, chiseling down the walls he so carefully built until he felt like he did in his younger years.

He did not like feeling weak, but something told him he tasted quite a bit of that from both sides while he was split. And you...you had embraced his human half despite that weakness, becoming the crutch he relied on as he made his way up the Qliphoth tree. You never saw his weakness as a flaw, or a bad thing--not like the countless people he had met growing up. One had to be strong every moment of their life to survive, unwavering in the face of danger and despair. The vulnerability V had showed you should have been far more humiliating, but...instead he found himself aching to show such vulnerability again, just to feel that sense of belonging as before.

It could not, would not happen. Battling came first above all else.

He had followed when you rushed outside, body soaked in water after mere moments of rain. He would be a fool not to notice how much you improved, the strength you had gained in four mere months. Those tendrils of yours were precise, whipping out in a  deadly arc to launch your toward battle, the very nightmares that once plagued his body flanking you with an eagerness to fight. It was so distracting, his eyes lingering on you with fascination as you summoned forth a cane-- _his_ cane, the very one he had stolen from a shop in the city when he had been left wandering on his own. _No...not him, V_. You had mixed it with your Void power, using it as a sentry that could now shoot crystal to finish off your foes.

 _She has grown so much,_ The Voice breathed in awe, tone soft and filled with adoration, _How incredible, our Sparrow. Where she has thrived you have wallowed in your own self-pity._

He was aware of that, thank you very much. Still, he tried desperately to focus on his own fights, to ignore you and take down as many demons as possible. Why had such a large amount summoned on the beaches of Fortuna, of all places? From what he could glean of V’s memories, Nero had said the Order of the Sword had long been out of commission, so a place like this gave nothing to demons in terms of power or bloodshed, not unless they were planning to wipe out the city and claim it. But even then, this group wasn’t nearly big enough to attack a city that was renowned for having dealt with worse demon attacks before.

So why?

He didn’t get to think about it very long, even through the mindless killing of the disgusting creatures. He had been in the process of killing another of their kind when a peculiar sensation had rippled along his spine, making his sword movement halt and a grunt escape from his lips. He couldn’t recall ever feeling such a thing before, like chills were settling over his limbs from a cold that didn’t exist. It took all his concentration not to get hit with the retaliating attack from his foe, leaping back and skidding over the wet sand with water running down his furrowed brow to parted lips. Was that voice in his head causing disruptions again? But there was no head pain, not while there was so much on the line.

But...he received his answer. 

Right as he went to raise his sword again, he was halted by Griffon’s loud shrieking, his voice carrying over the beach as he yelled, _“Toots…! Move…!”_

He was yelling at you. That nickname was definitely something Vergil had remembered.

His gaze whipped around in just enough time to see the ocean raise behind you, the wave arcing just as the storm kicked everyone and everything with the heaviest rain he had ever felt. It was hard to see, but for a moment he thought he saw flashes of lightning in the water, what looked to be the illuminated silhouette of a whale’s body before the water crashed down on your frozen form. He was surprised by the immediate panic and shock he felt, body moving before he even had a chance to think in a mad dash to grab you--but to no avail. The water snatched you back faster than he thought possible, body disappearing under the rolling waves and leaving emptiness where you had once been.

 _“Kid!!_ ” Nero had shouted, making a dash for the water as well with Dante close on his heels, but both had been tackled by the remaining demons, forced to stay back and fight with no hopes of saving you.

Vergil had an opening. And he was not going to hesitate.

 _Save her!_ The voice in his head had practically shouted, even while Vergil was sprinting his way to the shoreline, turning into his Devil Trigger form and launching over the water, _Save her save her save her…!_

His heart was pounding against his ribs, increasing in tempo even as he ignored the alarmed shouting of Dante after him, plunging into the rolling surface of the ocean in one fell swoop. The water was dark and cold, far more chilled than it should have been for a warm island like Fortuna. And luckily enough, spotting you through the murky depths was far easier than he could have anticipated. As soon as he swam a few meters down, your floating form met his alarmed gaze, hair and tendrils hanging loosely in the swirling water. He shouldn’t have been feeling such panic, such fear in regards to anything or anyone. But seeing you down there alone and vulnerable kicked alive a fear in him he didn’t know existed, the fear that came with seeing someone he cared for in danger--such a thing hadn’t been experienced since he was young, so young. Reliving it was something he never wanted to do again.

Seeing you down there, illuminated by candlelight of all things in the ocean’s salty water... _what the hell was going on_? He didn’t stop in his movements, watching with horror as black, crystalline hands started to reach for you as they emerged from a shrine sitting in the seaweed and sands. You did not move as they touched you, pulling you closer and closer to the object of worship he recognized to be a rune, remembering how much the object had upset you when it had appeared on your belt while traveling. _This is not right, she is in danger and we need to stop it._ You looked dazed, eyes black and lips parted in the water without so much as a muscle twitch to stop it from happening.

Vergil didn’t think. He couldn’t. For once the voice and he felt more aligned than ever, his wings beating against the current in a desperate attempt to reach you. His demonic arm had snatched you around the waist, tugging with all his might as he tried slashing at the phantom appendages. They were both physical and not--he felt them touching you, but cutting them yielded to results. Strong, unwavering. He could do nothing but hold on, wings trying to pull you both away while his tail thrashed back and forth. Those arms started grasping at him too, holding onto his biceps, stroking his face, snaking their way all away around his waist and back.

He would damned before he let you go.

_Never let her go again. We have you, Sparrow._

The shrine pulling you both in suddenly shattered into a million splinters, candles glowing in a bright light that blinded his eyes. He had never felt a cold like this before, at least not in recent memory. There was a brief flash of it when you had sent V and Trish passing through the Void in a last ditch effort to save them from the crumbling city, but it did not compare to this. Like being doused in ice, but still somehow colder and heavier. The chill seeped into his bones, filled his lungs and the armor surrounding his body until the demonic heat ceased to be entirely--it was all he could do to wrap his wings around you, trying to shield your body as he lost his sense of direction. Which way was up, were you both falling? It was starting to feel like it.

The light disappeared after a few long moments, Vergil feeling ground form under his shoulder and left side like it had materialized from thin air. No longer falling. His eyes snapped open, air heaving in and out of his lungs and brain scrambling to get its bearings--back to human form, Sin Devil Trigger gone. This place was a far cry from the beaches of Fortuna, that was the most apparent and obvious thing when he pulled himself up on his hands and knees. That voice in his head was quiet now, remembering the few things you had mentioned to him about your god, your Deity and the place he came from. What did you mention every time you used your power, something called “the Void”? That was a good name for wherever you both were.

There was no sky, only a dark, endless emptiness that stretched further than the eye could track. Inky and black, but glowing hollowly with pale light at the same time. Why was it so terribly cold, and loud? There was a low keening that never seemed to fade, like a chorus of a thousand voices merging together in an eerie howl that sent chills down his spine. Vergil was not a man easily unnerved, especially after spending so much of his life trapped in hell with no escape. But this...this was something far beyond hell, beyond anything he had experienced. With it came the most unbelievable sensation of emptiness, loneliness that was carried on the harsh wind and in between the pieces of floating debris.

 _Focus on her--is she alright?!_ The voice hissed forcefully, making his head immediately turn to look at your unconscious form next to him, _Is she alive?_

Panic gripped him for a second, Vergil rolling you over so he could press his ear to your chest to see if you were breathing--thankfully, you were. Short and fast, heart hammering away at a worrying pace and body shivering from the temperature. It occurred to him then that you were both somehow dry, no longer dripping with salt water and clothes as they were before you stepped out into the rain. How was that possible? _How was any of this possible?_ He ran a hand through his hair, frustration and anger in his expression as he debated heavily what to do.

 _Use the Yamato--if this is a dimension, you can cut through it,_ The voice actually gave him some decent advice, low and soft as Vergil continued gazing at your resting face, _She can’t stay here, she can’t thrive in a place like this._

There was truth in those words. Vergil let out a low, heavy grunt as he started to rise to his feet. He shrugged off his coat, pausing for a moment before laying it over your sleeping form. It would not help, he knew that. Whatever was at play here cut right through his clothes and chilled every part of him, but at least...at least an attempt was made. If anything, his actions made the force in his head happy, and that was enough to let him know it was worth his pride.

He unsheathed his sword, concentrating momentarily before attempting to make slashes in the air to get you both out of there. Even as he did so, Vergil expected that it wouldn’t work and was immediately proven correct in his assumption. The motion yielded absolutely nothing, no slashes being made in the air and Yamato having no effect. And that...was heavily alarming, bringing back that sense of being completely powerless in an instant. Vergil grit his teeth hard, jaw clenched as he lowered the sword and thrust it angrily back into its sheath. What the hell were they doing there, and why? Why suck them both into such a place? There was no doubt the Deity had a part to play in this, but the son of Sparda saw no sight of any creature.

All that remained was you, unconscious on the floor and shivering in the cold.

It was no coincidence that he was trapped in there with you, of that he was sure of. But despite all his unease, all he could do was sit down by your form, trying to calm his racing heartbeat as time passed by uninterrupted. What more could he do but wait? You were familiar with this place, surely. Perhaps you could do a better job of getting them out of the situation than he. But...your power was connected to that God, so if he wanted you both to stay there was no fighting it. The feeling of being absolutely useless was maddening, but there was nowhere to go, no destination and nothing to fight but himself and the emotions trying to drown him again. Leaving you alone was not an option, and he was willing to sit and wait if need be.

Problem was that left him alone to his thoughts, and the voice that refused to shut the hell up.

_(Your POV)_

_It’s cold, so cold._

_You remember this feeling._

_You remember this place._

Your body felt so heavy, weighed down by a blanket of chill and shivering from the cold wind, one your soul recognized quite well--you had spent many years existing in this place, after all. The Void was a space that had once been a home of sorts, one that brought sleep and the loss of all that plagued your mind. Now...being here yielded only despair, a sense of foreboding that could fill someone to the brim and break them down into nothing. All those months in the sun had spoiled you, making the howling and frigidness of this place seem like your own personal hell by comparison. And with that came fear, anxiety, pain, a million things filling you up at once and sending your heart racing like it was trying to free itself from your chest.

Each part of your body came back in bits and pieces. The cold made its home first, then the heaviness of your limbs. Hadn’t you been drowning earlier, thrust into the rolling ocean with salt water filling your chest and mouth? Your lungs ached, but each breath came easy enough in the freezing air, brushing past your lips and disappearing into the Void. _I don’t want to be here, I can’t be here. I want to go home._ Panic gripped you like all those hands on your body, making you want to scream and cry until you were returned to where you belonged. Back to the house by the sea, with your new family and back to worrying only about what to wear for the festival with the children. After all that time spent happy, coming back here was like a slap to the face.

_I don’t want to open my eyes._

But you had to.

When they finally peeled open, you were not at all shocked to see the Void staring back at you. But disappointment and despair still made its way in, heart plummeting to your stomach at the all too familiar sight of debris floating past in the harsh wind. The Void had not changed at all, as dark and miserable as the day you left it. You shuddered at the sight of a whale’s dead body floating past, one glassy eye reflecting the dull glow and blood dripping from its maw. It reeked of whale oil and of something cold and dark, filled with the endless howling of all the forgotten, broken souls who came to make this place their home.

It was your home once too. But not anymore.

You pulled yourself into a sitting position, feeling confused when something slipped off of your form and draped onto your lap. What was covering you? Upon lifting it in your fingers, you felt your head blank out for a moment while it processed just what it was--heavy fabric, either black or very dark blue in color, with silvery-blue trim on the collar and arms. You knew this coat very well. It sent your heart into overdrive, if that was even possible, a thousand emotions rising back up as you tried to process why the hell it was here.

_In the water--you remember, don’t you? The slash of a blade, someone grabbing you._

“...Finally awake I see.”

That voice, rasping and familiar made you jolt in place, head whipping around in shock to the source. Cold, lightly colored eyes stared back at you from a face you did not expect to see in the Void, his expression tired and mildly annoyed-- _Vergil._ Your mouth popped open in shock, horror and disbelief filling you when it clicked that he was in the Void with you. _No no_...this was not good, this was not a place he should have ever been forced to see. Why was he here? Why had the Deity brought him in with you? You gripped his coat in your fingers, belatedly realizing he must have draped it over you in an attempt to keep you warm in the harsh chill in this place, but...that was not something you wanted to think about.

_He shouldn’t be here. He couldn’t be here._

_What was the Deity planning?_

“Vergil,” You whispered, voice clearly displaying your fear and worry as you kept your eyes locked with his, “Y...you...how are you here…? What happened?”

He let out a light scoff at your words, rising to his feet and rolling one shoulder. He was wearing only a vest in similar color to his jacket, arms bare to the bitter cold--he was fairly muscled, his biceps flexing as he no doubt tried to shake the chill from his limbs. All you could do was stand up as well, holding out his jacket with shaking fingers for him to take.

“The ocean swallowed you,” He said flatly, eyeing his piece of clothing with a frown as he added, “Keep it--Are you not cold in a place like this?”

_Why is he trying to help me in the first place?_

You shook your head, holding it out more insistently as you murmured, “No...I am used to this cold. You aren’t, but I doubt the jacket helped anyway, did it?” Clothes never shut out a chill like this, the sensation lingering on your soul for a long time even after leaving the forsaken place. You felt bad--Vergil wouldn’t be able to shake this cold for a long time.

He was still frowning, but he took back his jacket with steady fingers. Relief filled you, a sigh leaving your lips as he pulled it back on, “No, it does not help. Am I to assume that this is the Void you spoke of?”

“Yes,” You nodded, staring at him anxiously even as he turned his gaze away to examine the space around you, “But that doesn’t explain how you got here.”

_I want to hear him say it. I know the answer, but I deserve to get it from his mouth._

Vergil frowned more at your words, tilting his chilly gaze back to you and meeting your eyes. Something about the annoyed way he stared at you made you want to squirm, always feeling nervous in regards to him. It was strange, loving a part of someone that did not want to love you in return. And worse, he knew of your love, knew of it and threw it to the side like garbage. Like it didn’t matter. There was still anger left over from what he had done in the tree, burning brighter at the way he looked at you, as if you were aggravating him just by existing. But there was no place for that here, not now when things were so dire.

“...I tried to stop the shrine from taking you,” He finally replied, tone low and begrudging as he furrowed his brow, “It took us both instead.”

 _God damn it._ Guilt was filling you now, coupled with the realization that you being in danger had sucked him into such a bad situation. But...there was no mistaking that all the day’s events had happened for a reason, caused by the outside force you knew to be the Deity. He must have foreseen Vergil coming to save you, which meant he wanted the son of Sparda to be pulled in as well. Alarming as that was, you could not understand why--what drove the God now? Was this a game he was playing, for his entertainment? Or did it have a reason?

“My Deity brought you here on purpose,” You replied to him softly, turning your gaze away from his and anxiously eyeing the whale floating by, “Make no mistake of that--he...he wants you here, but I don’t know why.”

_This ignorance is frightening. I can’t afford to be ignorant again._

“Is it possible for you to teleport us?” Vergil asked, taking a few steps over to the edge of the platform you were on and staring down at the depths below. Seeing the endless abyss seemed to displease him even more, jaw tightening when he saw no bottom to be spoken of.

Did...he remember when you opened the Void portal, back when he was still split into V and Urizen? You couldn’t tell, heart speeding up as you stared at his sharp face. Maybe...maybe he just assumed you could do such a thing after seeing your powers earlier? There was no need to grasp at straws that weren’t there.

But you tried to activate your Void power anyway, feeling the burn grow in your stomach as you raised a hand to the open air.

“ _Open the Void’s maw.”_

As you expected and feared, it had zero results. No portal or gate opened, power flaring and dying just as quickly. But of course, there would be no leaving if the Deity desired it. While doing so you quickly realized that you couldn’t feel the familiars anymore either--they were not in your body, and your connection to their thoughts brought forth only static. That caused panic to grip you, feeling naked and vulnerable without them there to back you up. Were they alright with you being trapped from them like this? Would they be able to stay alive and healthy so long outside your body? You hoped to god that they would be okay, heart aching painfully at the idea of losing them after all that they had done.

They were still connected to you, right? That bond had not been broken, only muted for a time.

_I need to get home. I can’t stay here._

_God damn it._

“He is blocking me,” You whispered, closing your fingers into a fist and letting your hands drop to your sides, “This place has no entrance and no exit. There is nothing I can do--even Griffon, Shadow and Nightmare can’t be reached to help us...I’m sorry.”

Vergil let out a low growl of annoyance, but it didn’t seem to be directed at the lack of ability to get you both out. He ran a hand through his slicked back silvery-white hair, gripping the Yamato’s sheath tightly with the other. Nero did the same thing when he was stressed--it was strange to see it echoed on him despite the fact that they spent no time together.

“I had guessed your power would be even less successful than my own,” He replied in a sullen tone, making you realize instantly that he must have tried to use the Yamato at some point to leave. But...judging by his look of anger, it had no effect, “Considering it is born of this place, he can stop it from working as he chooses. Your God seems hellbent on us staying, yet he has not made himself known. Why is that?”

You wished you knew. But this was beyond any knowledge these years of serving the Deity had given you.

“I don’t know,” You admitted in a low whisper, turning to meet his gaze with a despairing one of your own, “His actions are a mystery even to me...I have never known his intentions.” The past events had made that very apparent to you. There was a time that you thought you understood the God, how he saw you and your own purpose. But...that understanding was long gone, washed away by the sting of betrayal after he had forced you to watch V as he--

_You can’t think about that now._

Vergil seemed displeased by your answer, irritation spiking like a physical presence in the air as he replied, “You served this God without any knowledge of how he functions? How could you hope to follow a being with ignorance being the only thing to guide you?”

His words struck a very angry, indignant chord within you. The events leading up to your final moments inside the Qliphtoh tree were a sore spot, an open wound that he seemed to love ripping open again and again. That ignorance had caused you nothing but pain, but god damn it how could you have foreseen what the God would do? Up until meeting V, he had done nothing to earn your distrust, having been a father figure who gave you another chance at life. It took all that had transpired to teach you of the toxicity he had forced into your skull, of the cruelty those actions wrought. And Vergil was in no place to question that.

_You can’t afford to lose your temper, not now. Not here._

_But…_

“You think I don’t know that?” Your words came out a lot harsher than intended, mood affected by the fear, worry, and panic to make them sharper, “I thought I knew a long time ago what kind of being he was, I...I was wrong. I don’t know anymore.”

Vergil met your annoyed gaze with a sharp one of his own, not oblivious to your anger in the slightest bit. You turned away, looking out at the Void again and gripping one strap of your clothing hard in your hand. That anger you had stomped down for all those months seemed ready and raring to make an appearance, watered by Vergil’s unending cruelty despite how much you expected it. God, he made you so tired, all of this did. Why weren’t you allowed to just have the peace you desired, back home with the others and relearning how to be a human again? Vergil may hate the humanity he possessed, but that part of him had been so precious to you. V had brought you joy, no matter how brief, and that was something that clung to you despite how much it hurt.

And he just...disregarded it.

“What do you suggest we do, then?” Vergil finally asked in reply, letting out a light sigh and pressing a hand hard to his temple. It looked like he was in pain again, a scowl marring his face as he muttered, “Just sit here and wait for this pompous creature to show his face?”

What else could be done? Trying to maneuver around the Void was dangerous and pointless. You were starting to feel sullen sitting here dealing with Vergil’s foul mood, but there was nowhere else to go.

“It’s all we can do,” You replied simply, tone soft and tired as you closed your eyes, “He wants us here for a reason, and until his desires are fulfilled he will not let us go.”

Could you try and talk to Vergil about what happened? It seemed so impossible with how things were already going. The idea of bringing up V and your feelings for him made you so very nervous, especially considering how cold Vergil was to you at all times. He turned away from you at your words, walking along the space of stone that was the platform and scoping out the environment. Or perhaps...he was pacing. The half-demon was definitely not the talkative type, you could tell that much right away. But...you made a vow to yourself and Kyrie to at least try, and there was nothing left to do.

_You owe him nothing. You deserve closure._

Swallowing down your nervousness, you turned to look at him again with hesitant eyes. Vergil really was nothing like V, was he? Different in face, hair, body, personality. It felt almost impossible that V could come from this man, but...maybe the poet’s time away from the demonic half had let him flourish and soften, growing more of a personality without Vergil trying to stifle him? You could admit they both shared a similar air of pride, but V had been far more vulnerable with you. You could remember how he spoke of his mother, of his time as Nelo Angelo and how both things had hurt him. That existed in Vergil too, you knew that. But the stubborn man must have buried such feelings under so many layers of pride and coping mechanisms.

And that...made you terribly sad even while still being angry. Frustrated, growing in tempo the longer the silence stretched. Why was he this way, so hellbent on feeling nothing and searching only for power? He gained nothing but emptiness from a path like that.

_Don’t say it. Bite your tongue, bite it--_

“Don’t you ever grow tired?” You whispered before you could stop yourself, making him pause in his steps and look back at you, “Shoving everything down and trying to feel nothing? Seeing human emotion and needs as weakness, like it doesn’t matter.”

_You shouldn’t do this._

_Not here. Not now._

But there was no stopping the emotion once it started, the dam holding back everything you had so carefully held back for all those months starting to crack. Honestly, it had been a long time coming. Kyrie’s teachings had not left you, but...She had told you not to settle for anything less than what you felt was deserved. Anger was allowed, pain was allowed, but it was about not letting it rule your every action. Regardless, the silence your questions caused was heavy, so much so that you could almost taste it over the disgusting residue of the Void. More bitter than whale oil, and far more volatile. Vergil was not a man who seemed prone to outbursts of anger, but rather the quiet, restrained kind that made a chill slither up your spine.

When he replied, it was exactly the response he should not have given you.

“Because it doesn’t,” He spoke in a low, cold tone, turning away and pressing a hand to his temple again like the response had only added to his headache. Much to your surprise, a low smirk played on the edges of his lips, one that was bitter and slightly cruel as he continued with a low laugh, “Tell me--did your little crush on my human half bring you anything but weakness and pain? That human emotion that broke you down to nothing? You can scarcely look upon me without despair, even after months of time.”

You froze at his words, eyes widening and breath freezing in your lungs as time seemed to stop entirely. _What...?_ Did he just say that to you, words so harsh and bitterly cruel after all that had happened?If he had started ripping open your wounds before, now he was adding them like slashes of that sword. He was a wrecking ball smashing through the dam holding you back, and it was the biggest mistake he ever could have made.

_How dare you._

_How dare you say such a thing after all that happened._

_How dare you reduce all that I felt to nothing._

Vergil was not expecting you to suddenly lash out, so when you did, the force of your tendrils sent him flying.

He hit the ground hard on his back, rolling once before coming to a skidding halt and bracing himself with the Yamato. That dam holding everything you were holding back had shattered at his cruel, offhanded words, overflowing with so many things you didn’t know where to start. Why should you remain restrained when Vergil seemed so hellbent on bringing up the very things that hurt you? _Screw that._

The man in question whipped his gaze up, his expression cold and slightly shocked at what you had done. You didn't care. _You couldn't begin to care._ Every emotion you had pent up, every terrible memory and feeling was spiking at that moment. You were more than an overflowing glass—the glass was shattering now, spreading and absorbing through you like a tidal wave at his sharp, unfeeling words. You felt rage, anger, pain, betray--all wrapped into one volatile bundle.  

You didn’t spend four months recovering to go through this. You didn’t spend one four months finding your happiness with Nico, Nero, Kyrie and all the kids to have this bastard--the same bastard who caused your agony—break it all down with some offhand words. _It wasn't fair,_ and you were done. No more gritting your teeth, bottling everything inside while you and Vergil tried to find a way out of the Void. You didn’t deserve to be hurt over and over some feeble attempt to repair what he so carelessly destroyed, finding traces of V being damned under the weight of the rage filling up the space he left behind. You felt your chest heaving with the force of it, eyes black yet blazing as you met Vergil's gaze, tendrils whipping around you like razors.

The man stared back with those eyes you hated so damn much, expression unreadable as he panted, “Foolish woman...!”

You cut him off before the thought could even form, tendrils whipping warning shots around him that he immediately blocked with his Yamato. How was he to call you foolish, a man who refused to love anyone but power? One who had nothing in his life but a sword and that idiotic pride?

_I will not be looked down on anymore._

_“Fuck you...!_ What position are you in to look down on others, miserable and pathetic as you are?!” You spat venomously, watching as more surprise slipped onto his face at the heat of your anger. Had anyone seen you this mad before, other than him? Surely not, “You think it was just some fucking crush I had on your human half?! And just what the fuck would you know Vergil?!"

_Pain is a reminder that you are alive, right?_

_You couldn’t stop._

“This was never just about me or my feelings, _or what you fucking did to me...!_ So stop trying to hide behind what I felt like it somehow makes me weak…!” You continued furiously, tone dripping with every pent-up emotion, with anger and betrayal as you locked your gaze with his, “And contrary to what you think, Vergil, everything isn't about fucking you either! You think what I felt made me weak?! _Who is the weak one here, hiding behind pride and bravado and refusing to own up to their own actions?!_ ”

You balled up your fists, eyes burning and threatening to spill over with tears.

You would not cry. You could not cry.

_Pain is a reminder. But--_

“This is about the hundreds of thousands of people who died on your idiotic power hunting spree! Do you have any idea how many fucking innocent lives were taken, city ruined, families wiped out so you could summon forth the Qliphoth for a _single piece of fruit?_!” You could remember it, the image of a little girl’s husk frozen with a balloon still in hand. All the people left to die, the blood soaked into the dirt near the tree’s base and the destruction wrought. So much was lost, yet he seemed so hellbent on looking away while he left destruction in his wake.

He deserved to feel guilty. He deserved to feel terrible for all he had done. You couldn’t waver, not now. Not after all the time you spent burying it all down, trying to be kind.  

And yet...Vergil’s expression did not shift, silent and stoic even as you continued.

“You use your trauma like some glorified fucking excuse!” Your voice didn’t break, eyes wide and black as your hair began to rise, “Look around you Vergil! This is the Void, a place where broken souls come to _die_!” You spread your arms out wide, breaths coming in broken pants, "This is where my soul was sent when I died my first time! No heaven, no hell, no fucking afterlife! Just the cold, and the dark and...and...”  

Your voice cracked, the tears you were trying so deeply to hold in finally spilling. Your voice came out broken, shattered, mirroring your fracturing mind. God damn it, _god damn it._ He didn’t deserve your tears, not after he had taken so many from you. You shouldn’t be the one left suffering when it was he who had wrought so much agony from others.

 _“...Emptiness_.” You wished you didn't sound so scared, so vulnerable and broken. He didn't deserve to see that side of you again.

You looked away, chest heaving with gasps as you looked out at the floating debris, at the hollow darkness all around. Vergil simply stared, mouth closed and one hand firmly clenched around his Yamato. Ready to block you again if you attacked, no doubt. His face showed no sign of changing, so you continued on further, the torrent unable to stop its flow.

“Can you imagine living a human existence so terrible, so heartbreakingly awful that your soul is sent to a place like _this_?" You whispered, hands balled up so tight you were sure your nails cut into your skin. You slowly turned to look at him again, tears tracking down pale cheeks, "And my trauma is not gone--I carry that with me, a price I paid when I sold my soul. And yet I still managed to make my choices...! I held onto my humanity, I decided to help people instead of wallowing in my own fucking misery...!”  

You took a few deep breaths, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand as you let out a bitter laugh at him.

“ _What’s your excuse_?” You said softly, locking eyes with him again as the cold wind of the Void sent your hair whipping past your face.

Vergil’s hand clutched that damned sword so hard his knuckles turned white. Yet still, he didn’t speak.

You kept talking, now having the momentum and unable to stop.

“You claim this is about me and what I feel, yet don’t even think of your own _fucking son_!” Your voice was like daggers, cutting through the howl of the Void. You saw Vergil’s expression shift a little bit at the mention of Nero, an unreadable look in his eyes, “You’re so far up your own ass you can’t think for one god damn second about Nero and what you fucking did to him!”  

You whipped your tendrils out again at him, but this time he didn’t block them. A few sliced at his face, leaving small beads of blood to drip down his cheeks.

“Nero is one of my best fucking friends!” You spat, “I’ve talked him through his own trauma, through the pain of growing up fucking alone because you wanted a quick lay! Because you couldn’t be bothered with anything but yourself! All this bullshit to become stronger yet you couldn’t even fucking protect your own fucking son...!”  

_Have I struck a nerve, Vergil?_

The son of Sparda looked away, chest starting to rise and fall faster as you managed to break through that stubborn shell just a bit. Nero deserved better than him being impassive, better than a father who couldn't care enough to even try after living in his own ignorance. But Vegril’s facial expression still remained cold despite how he was seemingly holding back anger. You weren’t having it, no more of Vergil running away from every misery he caused, of every excuse he made. So, you darted over to him, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him up so he was face to face with you again. Adrenaline fueled you, but Vergil provided no resistance to your actions--he merely gritted his teeth, anger now flashing in his eyes at your open hostility.

_Show me some real fucking reactions, you bastard. You don’t get to slide by unscathed anymore._

_“You fucking ripped off his arm!_ ” You snarled, hands shaking as you gripped the fabric tighter, “ _Your own god damn son!_ You put him through hell and agony! And you can’t even suck up that stupid pride enough to own up to it! You’re a miserable excuse for a parent...!”

_You couldn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. You couldn’t stop._

You hit him where it hurt, you couldn’t stop yourself.

_“What the fuck would your mother Eva think?!”_

The words no sooner left your mouth and Vergil exploded, grabbing you by the jaw and using the Yamato to try and fling you away with an enraged snarl.  You took the blow easily—after years of the Void burning your insides, having them knocked around was child’s play. You attached the tendrils to him, whipping you both around as you fought to subdue the angered Sparda with all your might. Another whip of tendrils sent the Yamato flying out of his grasp, skidding across the ground a few feet away. It just barely managed to not fall into the black abyss below. Grappling with him while he was so volatile was not going to work, but you would be damned if you didn’t try.

Vergil snarled again, grabbing you by both your wrists and trying to pin you down to the ground. Finally, something other than that smug, condescending bullshit. Real rage was there now, his hands gripping you so tightly you knew it would bruise.

 _“You know nothing!_ ” He hissed, teeth clenched so hard you were shocked it didn’t hurt his jaw, “ _Don’t you fucking presume you know a damn thing about me...!”_

You tried to whip a foot up to kick him, shouting back in his face, “You think I give a single shit about your fucking Mommy issues?!” Your chest was heaving, heart hammering so hard you could hear it in your ears, “How could you put your son through the same shit you went through?! You blame Dante and hate him like he’s had a life with a silver fucking spoon in his mouth! _Yet you never once try to realize that his life was no better than yours!”_

 _“Be quiet,”_ Vergil’s voice was low, coming out in an enraged rasp, _“Enough...!”_

_You couldn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. You couldn’t stop._

“You think blaming Dante for everything will somehow make up for your backwards fucking guilt!”

_Hurt him like he hurt you._

_“But nothing will change the fact that you knew she was coming looking for you when she died!”_

Vergil released a yell of rage, lifting you up by your collar and rising to his feet in one fluid motion. He whipped around, holding you over the edge of the debris, feet dangling over the precipice and darkness that was the endless drop below. You stared him down, tears tracking down your face as you met his enraged eyes. And what a sight that was, seeing Vergil’s anger unrestrained, walls finally broken down and touching that trauma he hid beneath his layers of icy contempt. His hands were shaking as they gripped you, teeth clenched painfully and eyes alight with more emotion than you had ever seen in them. You made him suffer through the pain of his trauma, you reminded of the very things he never wanted to think about again.

There was agony in this expression, buried layers of guilt you doubted the man had ever wanted to face. That same guilt had existed in V, showing when he talked of his mother Eva and all that he had suffered through. You thought making him feel that pain you suffered would someone ease the ache, or bring a cold sense of glee that he was getting all that he deserved. You hurt him, _you hurt him._

_You hurt him like he hurt you._

And you felt no satisfaction.

His expression made an ache bloom in your chest, eyes burning with tears that tracked down your face as the anger began to subside, leaving you so very hollow. Why? _Why couldn’t you just feel better after making him feel bad too?_ It wasn’t fair that he got to slide past all the destruction and loss, curling his lip at any sign of human emotion. But...now he was showing it, feeling the very agony you had spent months pushing down in yourself.

All that remained was the pain, the loss, the wound so fresh and open again. Like he had stabbed into your heart and ripped them open himself while you had dug your gauntlet claws into his skin. Both equally wounding each other, but gaining nothing. This act had brought you nothing but empty anger and reliving the trauma you both had. And in the end...you remembered the words Kyrie had spoken, how her soft kindness had brought forth a sense of peace and the desire to just try. You had released all the pain and rage you had bottled up inside, the vessel that was you entirely shattered and dripping water all around. But the pain still bloomed, it still overflowed, and it didn’t stop.  

You found no satisfaction in hurting him. And you knew the reason why.

_This pain is a reminder. But...not the one you need right now._

“It wasn’t your fault.” Your voice came out broken and tiny, you weren't sure if he heard it or not. But you saw his face freeze, eyes staring into yours as panting breaths left his mouth. He didn’t say a word, hands still shaking as you let your mouth move without thinking.

“You were just a fucking kid, Vergil,” You whispered through tears, voice raw and cracking as you lifted your hands to grip his wrists. You could see V in your mind, hunched over his cane and looking so tired as he spoke of losing his mother, of growing up alone. That pain existed in Vergil, just as broken as the man who once held your heart in his hands, “Christ, you were so _young._ And alone...and...”

A sob broke your words, your mind remembering V’s pain, of all the words he told you. You remembered him in his moments of vulnerability, telling you about the mother he regretted never saving. You missed him so much it hurt, you missed being able to hold him and tell him everything was alright. Every kiss, every touch, every soft spoken word. All these months of distracting yourself never took that away, the longing to have him with you again so strong it sought to drown you just as the ocean had.

You missed him so fucking much. But he was still here.

_Pain is a reminder—but happiness is too._

_Let pain be pain._

_You’re allowed to be upset, to be angry, to be heartbroken without trying to convince yourself it’s needed._

You closed your eyes, hair blowing past your face as you sucked in a pained, shuddering breath. Both parties had suffered in the end, and despite all Vergil had done, no one deserved to grow up alone, feeling unwanted or unloved. No child deserved to suffer and grow up pushing down their own emotion, made to feel like they weren’t allowed to show it.

“There was nothing you nor Dante could have to save her, and that _isn’t your fault..._!” You looked up at him, eyes now back to normal and power settling to a dull roar inside your body, “How could anyone expect such a thing of a child, including yourself? You deserved to have someone who could have swooped in and saved you, to tell  you everything would be okay and that...that never happened and...and...” Your heart ached so terribly, breaking all over again, “ _And I’m sorry.”_

_I wanted someone to save me too._

_I wanted to be protected and loved too._

_And both of us were left wanting._

A moment of long, heavy silence stretched between you and the son of Sparda, his expression frozen somewhere between shock, agony, and disbelief. Had anyone ever taken the time to say something like that to him before, to tell him he was allowed to feel pain and grieve for what he lost? That he deserved to be saved, deserved to live a happy life with people who loved him. For a moment you saw V’s vulnerability echoed in his icy blue eyes, making your chest hurt painfully as you waited for him to say something, anything. Would he return back to being mad, was he scrambling to put those walls back up that you had broken down? You were still held up by his hands, your own heart raw and pained as you struggled to pull back your own sense of composure.

You didn’t have to wait long. But...however you were expecting Virgil to react, you weren’t even close.

_Never close enough to this._

_Ignorant as always._

 You expected him to drop you over the edge, into the void below to fall endlessly until the Deity found you. Or maybe you expected more arguing, more yelling, more anger. _Anything_. To see his expression turn back to that stoic, stony wall was the picture you had painted, but it never came. Maybe you expected him to throw you away back onto the ground, to wear that cold look on his face as the topic dropped without acknowledgement. That didn’t happen either. You didn’t know what you expected, still spiraling on the edge of collapsing entirely into your own grief and pain again. Any of those things would have been better. Any of them would have been preferred to what he actually did.

Anything would have been preferred than him kissing you.

_You were overflowing with emotions in a cup too full. And now you had shattered._

He yanked you back to him, crushing your lips to his and kissing you hard as one of his hands fisted your hair. Your eyes widened, tears tracking down your cheeks as shock registered inside. So many things traveled through you as you gripped his jacket, unable to process any of it. What was happening to you, to him? If you were on the edge before, his actions sent you spiraling over the precipice, so many terrible things filling you to the brim as your heart hammered faster and faster until you were sure it would burst.  

And the worst of those feelings was the feeling of _relief._

A sob of absolute relief and pain burst from your lungs, muffled by his mouth and tongue as he continued to kiss you, bringing you both to your knees and holding you like a lifeline. And worse— _you were kissing him back._ You gripped the back of his head, pressing your body against him like you were drowning and he was air. His taste was on your tongue and you were starving. _You couldn’t stop._ All those feelings, all those emotions were attached to him and you hated yourself for it. V was a part of him, one that you missed and desired so much you couldn’t stand yourself--that attachment would not leave no matter how hard you struggled, and to give in was to plunge back into the agony headfirst.

_Please please please, God please--_

You felt him gasp, teeth biting your lip softly before indulging in you once more. He kissed you so much differently than V. The poet you loved kissed you softly, sensually, gently. His hands would gently stroke through your hair, cup your jaw, slide down your neck. Vergil was rough, unforgiving--fueled by desperation and confusion. He kissed you hard, unyielding, hands shaking and breath ragged. Filled with a pent-up urgency, a messiness V lacked. Out of control, like he had been holding back so much in absolute desperation. There was no more control left in the once-poised man, he was spiraling down just as painfully, just as sporadically. And it broke you.  

It seemed to break him too.

_I can’t. I can’t. I can’t._

By the time Vergil pulled away you were already sobbing. You heard him panting raggedly, sounding just as on edge as you were. How could he do this to you, continuing to stab that knife into your heart over and over again, unrelenting and cruel? And even more cruel was your own emotion betraying you, slaying you with how much you _wanted it_ , needed it, craved it like the very air you breathed. That kiss was everything, it was everything and nothing all at once. _And it wasn’t fucking fair._ Why couldn’t you just let go and move on, why did you have to want this pain so much? Addicted to it, unable to stop getting your fill wherever it could be found and plunging back into that cycle years and years of wanting had brought.

_I can’t want you, I can’t want this._

_You aren’t him, you aren’t the same._

_You hurt me so fucking much and that isn’t fair._

You couldn’t stop yourself—your arms started to move, hitting him on his chest over and over again without any real strength. You couldn’t muster it, but you also couldn’t stop.

You just wanted it to stop.

 _“I hate you...!_ " A whimper at first, then breaking into a heart wrenching sob as you pounded your fists on his chest, “ _I hate you!!!”_

He didn’t try to stop you, and you didn’t dare look at his face. His hands rested on your shoulders, unable to let go as you continued to land blow after blow on him. You knew it wasn’t enough to hurt him, you knew that. But that wasn’t the point anyway.

_“I hate you!”_

His hand slid up to the back of your head, pulling it to his chest as more ragged breaths left him. You tried to pull away, letting out a broken cry as you tried to hit him again and again, arms beginning to ache with the effort. _No no no_...he didn’t get to do that after all this time, he didn’t get to lie and hide away all he remembered and treat you like a weakness. You wanted this embrace, you didn’t want this embrace. It hurt, it ached, it throbbed with the most unbelievable sensation of being town in two. And it was all his fault, all V’s fault too.

_I just want him back. I want you to try. I want something, anything!_

_“I hate you...! You don’t know what you did to me...! You don’t know what it felt like...!”_ You sobbed, breath hitching in broken gasps as tear after tear dripped down your cheeks, _“I loved that part of you so much and you act like it’s nothing when it was everything…! You hurt me so much and that isn’t fair…!”_

_Pain is a reminder._

_But love is too._

_Isn’t that worth something?_

_“I know,_ ” He said simply, tone quiet and reserved. A stark contrast to his yelling earlier. But still not the same as his usual voice, “ _I am sorry_. _I’m sorry_ , _Sparrow.”_

_Don’t say that, don’t say that name. Don’t call me that._

It was not enough.

 _“I hate you...”_ Your voice was breaking down, quieter as it dissolved into broken sobs. You were sitting on Vergil’s lap, hands clutching the lapel of his coat with your face pressed to his chest. When had you last felt like this, so hollow and fulfilled at the same time? This vulnerability was never something that should have seen the light of day again, meant to be buried until life moved onto something new, something better. But...things never happened that way. You could hear his heart pounding, feel his every breath. And worst of all...this is what finally made you feel _relieved_. To be held, to be near him. He wasn’t V. _He wasn’t V._ But your soul couldn’t let him go and it was splitting you in two. Ripped apart like razors inside, worse than the pain of the Void, worse than anything you ever felt.  

Your sobs continued for a few for moments in the howl of those equally pained voices, tears dripping onto his clothing as your arms went limp, resting against him as every ounce of fight drained out of you. At the end of the day...he was right, wasn’t he? You were weak, and there was no pretending that you weren’t. Strength came with time and effort, with moving past all that had happened.

_But you never really moved on...did you?_

When you spoke again, your voice was so small, so broken you hardly recognized yourself. Tears pattering onto his jacket, eyes closing as you listened to his heart hammer in time with your own and resigning yourself to the pain inside.

_You are weak, just as he claimed. Because at the end of the day--_

_“Why can’t I just hate you?”_


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter came out late, I am a dumb horse who changes things last minute

_Chapter 35_

That moment between you and Vergil did not last long.

There was still so much more to say, to get off your chest. And his too, you would imagine. Vergil did not seem the type to lose himself in anything, but it was clear now he remembered a lot more than he let on. The son of Sparda was right, you were foolish not to realize sooner that V’s memories would still remain in this man, or that Vergil himself would not know how to process them. His burst of emotion had thrown him off kilter--you could see the confusion and desperation in his expression leading up to all that transpired. The very notion was like a dagger in your heart, twisting in place after that kiss and leaving you in your own state of disbelief and agony, bleeding and bleeding without fail.

What were you supposed to do, to feel? Vergil was so buried in his own, self made walls and barriers that he seemingly didn’t know how to handle emotions anymore. Even now, he did not speak after his rasped apologies to you, ones that were entirely unexpected. His head rested on your shoulder, body not moving while the last of your tears dried. So quiet--that silence spoke volumes,  the Sparda radiating heat like a furnace in the continuing howl of the Void. 

You didn’t know what to do, what to say to him. There had been a lot of cruelty spouted on both sides, things that were both needed and not. Regret filled you at how the situation had been handled, about some of the words that had left your mouth, but...some of them were things Vergil needed to hear, things you doubted someone had told him before.

There was no doubting the connect you still had. But now it was more confusing than ever.

You were a good person before anything else, even when someone had hurt you. There were things you didn’t understand, and that ignorance made it hard to excuse both V and Vergil’s actions during and leading away from the Qliphoth tree. But...you knew for certain now. Knew that the very same pain V had shared with you had been just as raw in Vergil, perhaps worse considering he refused to acknowledge it. Sometimes it was easier to run from pain, to hide it under layers and layers of coping mechanisms and toxic thinking to try and act like it wasn’t there. To make oneself feel strong--but it wasn’t healthy, and it was clear in Vergil’s case he got it into his head that becoming powerful was the answer, that feeling emotion would make him weak again. And what a shame that was, to see someone come out on the wrong side of their pain in a way that only caused more. A cycle, one that shouldn’t keep repeating.

His trauma did not excuse what he did, the deaths he caused. But it did explain them.

Could you possibly help Vergil? Especially with so much blood on his hands, hatred in his heart? All the day had proven was the capacity to feel did exist in him, but it took drastic measures to reach it, ones that did not need repeating. And you doubted he wanted to do so either. But there was no way this could be left alone to fester again, both of you sitting in a strange place where neither one knew what the other wanted, what to do with these feelings left over from that time in the tree. And that... _was painful_. It felt both wrong and right, splitting you right down the middle and leaving a lingering sense of nervousness and anxiety. It felt...right, kissing Vergil, but it didn’t feel right either.

Because you could feel V was a part of him, but those were not his lips, not his face or his body. You head was sending such mixed signals it almost made you dizzy.

“Vergil…” You spoke first, voice soft and cracking with how raw it felt. He tensed slightly at the sound, a breath of air exhaling from his lips as you continued in that same, lost tone, “You...you have V’s memories...don’t you?”

_We are quite the pair, you and I._

He swallowed audibly, a sigh escaping those lips he had just kissed you with as he raised his head to finally look at your face. And what an expression to see on Vergil, one of tired pain, sorrow, desperation. Unable to pull himself back together after everything being so raw, and that made your own heart hurt to echo his.  It was clear that he didn’t know what to do either, how to handle these emotions of his.

“...There was no hiding it,” He replied after some pause, running a hand through his silver hair and letting out another sigh, “Not when the memories are so...loud.”

_Loud?_

You closed your eyes, resting a single hand where his heart resided inside his chest. It was still racing, tempo still trying to find its rhythm as you replied softly, “Is the idea of loving me...so repulsive to you?” 

_What were you saying?_ It was never that easy, never. A relationship formed on the bones of what V left behind would have stung, caked with bitterness and struggle. But even then, the words still left your lips as you continued quietly, “Had you told me from the start I could have...could have…”

_I could have tried--even if the shape is different, even if he’s buried inside you I would have tried to find him in you again. But how can I now, when it’s clear that the idea of loving me is only a weakness in your eyes?_

Vergil fell silent for another moment, followed by the feeling of his chin resting on the top of your head. Such an action felt strange from him, a person who seemingly did not like affection in any form.

“...Repulsive isn’t the correct word,” He finally muttered, sounding incredibly tired and unsure of himself, “I didn’t know what to make of the memories I have--they feel like mine, yet also like a stranger’s. _His_ memories. I have not been made to feel in a long time--to feel is to be human, and to be human is to embrace weakness. And you brought out that humanity, and it was…”

 _Frightening. It frightened him--you became that weakness in his eyes_.

It made you feel incredibly sad, the way he had seemingly forged himself on the ideals of feeling as little as possible. Throwing away all that made him human, trying to appeal to his demonic half like it would somehow make him strong. Enough so to never be hurt again, to steel himself against the world’s cruelty brought upon at such a young age. And you hadn’t been any better, spending all those years filling your own head with the idea of pain being the only thing to make you feel alive, that suffering terrible agony would justify your existence. But...there were human emotions that people needed to survive, like empathy and kindness and love. To see Vergil deprive himself of even those…

V’s words echoed through your mind, coupled with the image of him staring at you with those pained, jade eyes.

_There is so much I want to tell you...But I am a coward, love. A brittle, selfish man trying to cling to whatever he can in the time he has._

V had tried to warm you, hadn’t he? Peppered all through your conversations, warning you away from what he knew made up Vergil’s mind and consciousness. If the poet saw Vergil in such a negative light...did the son of Sparda see himself that way too?

_Does he...secretly hate himself?_

But the chance to think into it more never came. Before you even had the chance to raise your head, the platform you were both suspended on began to rumble, making Vergil growl and your head snap back up. The Void was starting to shift around you, pieces of debris moving and attaching together over your head and on the platform itself. There were items suspended on them, ones curious in nature--a bed with dark colored sheets, whale-oil filled, glowing lanterns. Things certainly not from the world Vergil came from, but ones from various others.

The masses formed a more coherent space area around you, full of jagged stone and mysterious carvings that you could read as a follower of this particular Deity. With it came the quickening whispers all around, hushed voices rising in their tempo as a low hum of energy made the air vibrate ominously.

He had finally decided to show his face, hadn’t he?

Vergil was quicker to act than you, yanking your limp form up and into a standing position with one fluid movement--you legs felt so weak, you were lucky they didn’t immediately give out. He was clearly still on edge, teeth grit and face a mask of tense anger and frustration that did not diminish. 

You couldn’t blame him for being mad--this whole situation was brought about by the Deity’s actions, a lot more than he could even comprehend. Had the God not sent you to their dimension to begin with...Vergil would have awakened as planned, unburdened by his feelings for you and going about life how he should have. All this turmoil had you at its center, eye of the storm placed by the Deity’s hands.

But...that hardly mattered right now.

Shards of black crystal swirled overhead in an ominous cloud, traveling around your form and bringing an even heavier chill to the air. You flinched when the presence sent your hair lifting a bit, eyes going wide as the cloud hovered on a piece of debris ahead and began taking on a physical shape. One of a man, tall and lean in his silhouette. This was exactly what you had hoped to avoid--this was way too close to feeling like a child, about to be scolded by their angry parent. After those four months of silence, what else could you expect to get here? Certainly not anything good, despite how little you knew about his intentions. Instinctively you took a step back, head bowing and body stiff as a board--because despite the fact that the Deity had wronged you, he had also left you alone with your powers without trying to take them.

And you would rather not stand defiant in the face of something like him.

Vergil did not like your act of submission. He took a step forward, placing himself partially in front of your body and putting an arm out as a means to hold you back. _He didn’t have his Yamato on him, did he?_ It was still sitting precariously on the ground several feet away, left abandoned when the incident happened. Vergil didn’t seem hindered without it; his expression had gone cold and calculated again, eyes icy and filled with intense distrust and displeasure.

Comparatively to you, he had zero connection to such a powerful being, and akin to Dante he must have known better than to trust something so enigmatic in nature. One who stood between all things, a creature of neither good nor evil. He truly was like his brother in this case, steadfast with no fear in those icy blue eyes, the wind disturbing his slicked back hair only slightly and seemingly like a pillar of strength in the situation grasping you both.

But you knew better. He was still uncertain of himself.

He watched as the Deity finally took form, steadfast and muscles tensed like a cobra ready to strike at any time. You hated how fearful facing the god made you feel, waiting with baited breath for him to take that strange image you were always used to seeing--one of mystery, a blank slate of memories that never stayed consistent. How could you read a man when your head could never comprehend his face? That alone should have told you not to trust the God from the beginning, the very fact that he never seemed to allow your eyes to take in his whole image. The black crystal was clustering into his shape, merging together like water and hardening itself.

But...something was different this time. Slower.

You and Vergil watched his body start to materialize, starting with the boots all the way up to the black hair on his head. Like the shimmering of glass, his body took shape in a wave of crystal as he--w _ait._

His hair. _His hair was black._

Your eyes opened wider in shock, realizing that for once in your years of serving him that you had remembered his hair color without confusion. It was visible, it wasn’t scattered and confusing--You were _seeing him_ , and your brain was not fuzzing it out. No more static, no more warping, no more confusion on his description. 

Your heart started to pound faster and faster, shock and confusion entering the chorus of emotions spinning around your skull, unable to tear your eyes away as each part of him came into existence, all the way down to the face you had seen so many times without truly gazing upon it--and that alone was enough to tell you how unprepared you were for this situation, how unpredictable the Deity’s intentions were. To show you this now, after so many years of holding it back--To truly see him for once, unfiltered and clear as the sky on a summer day...it was unbelievable, and it made your legs feel like they were about to fold under you.

You were seeing the God, all of him without filter.

The Deity was smiling lightly when he finally took shape, black eyes meeting yours over Vergil’s shoulder. His clothing was older in design, high-collared and dark grey from his coat to the slacks on his legs. Being able to make out his face felt odd, wrong in a way. All these years of staring at something you could never comprehend, to now gaze upon him with clear eyes was...unsettling. Even more so when he looked almost normal, human, the black eyes and overwhelming presence the only indication that something was amiss. 

The god was handsome, with high cheekbones and tired eyes, like he hadn’t tasted sleep in all his years of existence. Standing poised, hands clasped behind his back and legs slightly parted in a stance that spoke of confidence, of a man who had his pieces laid out on the table and ready to fall into place. That expression he wore sent a twinge of nervousness down your spine, like staring at a smug cat finally about to get his cream.

_What is he planning?_

_Why did he bring us here?_

_What can we do?_

_“It has been quite some time, has it not?_ ” The Deity said in low greeting, slowly tipping his head to one side and leveling his gaze on you, _“Y/N. I have missed you, child of mine.”_

Cue your immediate panic, mouth half opening but no words coming out. What were you supposed to say to him after all this time? Nothing could come out, none of it. Anger, betrayal, fear. There were so many emotions he stirred, which could stick?

Luckily, you had time to think on it. Vergil spoke before you, his tone whipping out sharply like a javelin as he pushed you further back.

“What is the meaning of this?” His eyes did not waver, even under the scrutiny of a God. That black gaze slowly slid over to him instead, that amusement not fading even when Vergil continued in a low growl, “State your business and be done with it--we aren’t here to indulge in your games.”

The Deity gave no indication of anger, merely shifting lightly on his feet and taking a few measured steps around where you and Vergil stood--circling like a predator stalking prey.

_Bad bad bad. Don’t look at him like that--with so much interest._

_“You are Vergil, son of Sparda and Eva,_ ” He remarked, trailing his dark vision over the man in question with a bit of a smirk on his lips. One step, then another. Vergil turned with him, refusing to remove his eyes from the God and shifting you with him, _“A power hungry half-breed who has caused the death of countless in his pursuit of self-gain. To wallow in self-pity so deep, you have surely began to drown.”_

Vergil’s shoulder’s visibly tensed at his words, brow furrowing in a sharp look of annoyance. You didn’t like the Deity’s words either, like the Deity had some sort of malice against the son of Sparda. Vergil may have wronged you, but...there was no trust left for the Deity, not after all that had transpired between you both. You didn’t want him anywhere near the half-demon, and whatever he had planned was not to pass.

“Don’t waste my time with such useless prattle. I’m not here to be judged by the likes of you.” Vergil stated flatly, unimpressed by the God’s calmly-spoken statements. His words earned him a raised brow, that poised smile twitching only slightly with...impatience? Anger? There was no way to be sure, not with how little you knew of the Deity’s facial expressions.

Vergil definitely wasn’t making things better by giving so much attitude. You wished he wasn’t like Dante, but the two were unfortunately similar--what did he serve to gain by insulting a higher being when they were stuck in his domain?

It spelled out a bad situation, one that you would not be able to save him from.

_Do something. Anything._

You stepped out from behind Vergil, forcing your hands to stop shaking and making the God’s eyes shift back to you. They immediately lightened with interest, that smile turning into something akin to a grin, one that was almost affectionate. Like...he expected this of you.

_Remain steadfast, without fear._

“No more games,” You said softly, finding it hard to keep your voice as strong and calm as you wanted it to be. It had been so long since you addressed the creature before you, so long since you stood in this place and begged for anything. You thought it was beyond you, a time long past in your life, but...drastic measures had to be taken now, especially with the son of Sparda dragged into it, _“Please._ This does not involve him. If you want to speak to me, if you wish to punish me, just let Vergil leave and be done with it. I beg this of you.”

_Please. Don’t bring anymore interference to his life. I’ve done enough damage already._

Vergil let out a sharp hiss at your declaration, anger flashing in his eyes as he started to protest, “ _You will so no such thing…!”_

His concern was still surprising, especially when it was that vehement. But...as it stood, he was the only thing that remained from the poet you loved, as scattered and unrecognizable as he seemed. You would be damned before letting anything happen to him, no matter how cruel the man had been to you. It would hurt, it would be frightening, but it was a risk you were willing to take if it meant preserving the last bit of V that was left behind. He was a bastard, but...this was all you could do, and it was your interference that caused all the madness to begin with.

But the Deity had other plans in mind, ones that you did not expect.

He tilted his head again, slowly raising a hand in your direction and making you flinch despite how slow the motion was. His expression was still that impassive smile, one that you could not read at all and those black eyes so deep you felt like they were trying to drown you. For a moment...was that hesitation that flickered there in the inky blackness? A worry, or maybe disappointment? Like he was feeling a bit regretful about something he had done, or was about to do.

 _All that he does,_ The Void whispered in your ear, startling you thoroughly and making your shoulders jolt, _He does for you. Never doubt how blessed you are to having the graces of the black-eyed God._

_What? What the hell did that mean?_

_“Contrary, my child,”_ The God in question said softly, tone so calm and tranquil it scared you--it still managed to cut  Vergil off despite how quiet it was. And that alone was enough to make you freeze in place, _“You are only one providing interruptions--haven’t I taught you not to speak out of turn?”_

_You had made a mistake._

The moment his fingers twitched agony erupted in all of your limbs, making your back bow and tendrils crack out of your from. Cold, burning, freezing all at once, causing you to fall to your knees and sealing a silent scream in your throat. _It hurts it hurts it hurts-_ \- it was akin to how it felt when the Foresight rebelled against you, but somehow worse. The tendrils wrapped around your arms and legs, snaking their way to your waist and throat and holding you down through the thrashing and struggling. It all happened so fast, your brain blanked out, unable to comprehend that level of suffering all at once and panicking now that Vergil was no longer in your field of view. _What had you done? Not like this, please don’t subdue me again, not like that time in the tree. Please don’t make me relive that again._

Why? Why was the God doing this to you, after all you had done to serve him? Tears stung your eyes, which were now turning black with your level of panic and stinging terribly with the pain.

And worse--Before you could scrape any pleas from your clenched throat, each sense disappeared one by one. Hearing, seeing, touch. You went from thrashing in agony to absolutely limp, now floating in a sea of nothingness with no idea what had happened. To have all of one’s senses ripped away, to have no control at all...it was maddening, bringing forth tears that you could no longer feel from your eyes.

_This is worse--this is worse!_

_I’d rather the pain._

_I’d rather suffer than feel nothing._

Every sense suddenly cut out, but your consciousness remained. Unable to see, hear, or feel anything with your mind screaming in terror and disbelief. Pain was one thing, to be suspended in absolute darkness with your consciousness still wide awake was another. Was he going to erase your memories? How long would you be subdued? There was no room to struggle, to scream, to cry. All that you could do was try to control your panicking thoughts, mentally begging the being to release you and promising submission if he would just let Vergil go. Doubts aside, inconsistencies too, you couldn’t afford taking any chances based on useless theorizing anymore. You were trapped, leaving Vergil at the whims of a God who had zero predictability.

And that was what frightened you most of all.

_(Vergil POV)_

What had the God done to you?

Vergil was forced to watch in shock and horror was your body collapsed, tendrils snapping into the ground and lifting you up on a pillar of black crystal. He tried to reach out and catch you when you fell, but the tendrils lashed out and slashed at his jacket, knocking him away while your mouth opened in a silent scream. You went absolutely slack as soon as the crystal formed around your arms, waist, and legs while the God watched on with a calm expression, smile fading a bit into something a little more reserved. What had he done? _What had he fucking done to you_? Vergil scrambled back up, huffing and panting as he took in your face. Eyes black now, wide open with shock and face now blank--there was no movement from your body, no indication that you were even alive.

And that was enough to send him spiraling back into that dark place, one on the very edge of rage.

 _No no no!_ The voice cried, banging on his consciousness like fists on steel doors, unrelenting, _Do something! DO SOMETHING!_

He bolted back to your side, hands grasping your prone face in his fingers with a sense of desperation that still startled him. Your lips were parted, shallow breaths leaving them--lips he had kissed just moments ago. _They had kissed you,_ the very knowledge of it was still shocking, jarring, like another life had occurred in a moment. He and the voice inside had aligned at your callous words, losing control in a snap of heated tension and broken barriers. Your reaction had been daggers in his heart--both hearts. It was painfully clear who that voice was, Vergil had just been too stubborn to accept it. Loud, arrogant, furious and so in love with you...it would make sense that the poet would remain after how strong you made him, after all.

_V was still here._

He was appalled by the state of you, filled with worry and despair as they both watched whale oil start to drip from your eyes like tears. And worse, there was nothing he could do to help you--Vergil knew that, knew trying was pointless. The God had you enveloped in crystal like his fist, gripping you in a tight and infallible vise. Vergil lifted his cold, panicked eyes from you to stare down the being, feeling his anger coil tighter and prepare itself to snap. The closest thing Vergil had ever fought to a god had been Mundus, a battle that had ended in failure of the worst kind. The defeat was still bitter on his tongue, a harsh reminder of his past mistakes that would never leave. But this treatment of you was unacceptable--you were not a plaything, not a pawn for him to manipulate as he pleased.

Vergil contemplated making a mad dash for the Yamato, despite how ineffective he knew it would be. This was the God’s domain, his place of power. He might as well be painfully human in the Void.

The God seemed to sense his thoughts, clicking his tongue lightly and teleporting over to the sword in question. As Vegril watched with wide eyes, he plucked the blade up with delicate fingers, earning an immediate reaction. The blade hissed with steam, rising up from the god’s hands as the energy within burned and fought back against the foreign holder. There was no change from him, not even a hint of pain in those black eyes of his as he turned to face Vergil once more.

 _“Your weapon is filled with your father’s essence,”_ He remarked, tilting that black gaze over to Vergil as he slowly walked closer, _“His energy never did agree with mine.”_

 _“What have you done to her?!_ ” Vergil hissed, ignoring the man’s comments entirely and hating how his pale, disgusting hands were on the Yamato. This was all going absolutely wrong, he didn’t know what to do to save you. Akin to that day all those months ago, when you had collapsed in the apartment bathroom after healing V to the best of your capabilities--he was left stricken, staring at you in a state of panic and horror with his hands practically tied behind his back.

_Helpless. We are helpless as always, just like when we were young._

The Deity smiled, like Vergil’s response somehow pleased him. After weighing the sword a few more seconds, he tossed it back to the Sparda quite unceremoniously. Vergil caught it with deft fingers, immediately whipping it out to point it at the unfazed creature like his threats actually held any weight.

They didn’t, of course.

 _“Worry not,”_ He said calmly, teleporting over to a nearby piece of debris and sitting down on it in a leisurely fashion, like they were two friends discussing the weather, _“I have merely subdued her for the time being--she can neither see nor hear us, which leaves time to discuss a proposition I have for you.”_

_Proposition?_

The Deity smiled, immediately seeing Vergil’s expression of absolute disgust and mistrust. He knew damn well making any sort of deal with a God was a bad idea, especially a god like this. A trickster, a player of games and manipulator of human souls. There was no doubt he had ill intentions in mind, especially with a coy expression like that. He chuckled, splaying his arms out wide as he met Vergil’s dark gaze with an equally unwavering one of his own--because he knew, it in the end, he had the Sparda in a bind, right where he wanted him. Cornered with no way out, torn between his nature and doing whatever it would take to defend you from this creature.

And being cornered was something he did not like.

 _“No need to look so crass,”_ He hummed, seeming positively amused by the whole situation as he continued, _“I will give you the gift of knowing my name--my true name, and I will propose to you a challenge you would be reluctant to refuse.”_

A challenge that he had no choice but to accept.

Vergil curled his lip, putting himself in front of your poised form and raising the sword again, “And what is the alternative if I refuse?”

The black-eyed bastard tilted his head to one side, lips still curved in that bemused smile as he lowered his arms back down and rested his hands on his lap.

 _“It seems to me that you already hope to refuse,”_ He observed, standing up again and taking a few slow, measured steps toward the volatile half demon. The Yamato was of no consequence to him, clearly, _“You should hear what I have to offer first before you jump to such conclusions, son of Sparda.”_

“I am no fool, I know better than to make deals with Gods like you,” Vergil immediately snapped in reply, brow furrowed in fury as he held the Deity’s patient  gaze, “But you might as well tell me your name, so I’ll know what to write on your grave.”

 _Cocky, you are too cocky--_ The voice in his head was frantic, filled with panic and anger as Vergil stared down the calm god- _-He will kill you, there is no chance of beating this man…!_

That only made the Deity smile, like he could somehow sense the turmoil rolling around in the other man’s head. Vergil didn’t appreciate how confident he was, nor did he like the stakes at play. If the God chose to trap him in the Void for a period of time, how could he hope to get out? If the being so decided it, he could disappear and leave him to wander alone for a century, maybe longer. Would he age in a place like this? Though he could stay in Sin Devil Trigger form as long as possible, but that would not hold for long. There was too much stacked against him, and the reality of it put a bitter taste in his mouth.

To submit was something he hated above all things, but...He looked back at your face, still glassy-eyed and staring up at the non-existent sky. He could sense your fear and panic when all this happened, could feel you reaching out for him when you were forced down into submission. He couldn’t leave you behind, not again, not after everything you both had been through. He had a duty to see this through, and there would be no leaving the Void without you in his arms.

 _Yes,_ The voice--no, V--sounded pleased in his head, tone low and filled with adoration as he saw you through Vergil’s eyes, _No more hurting her, not again. Please...I know it is hard to swallow your pride, but we must try...she would do the same for you._

For once...they were both in alignment.

 _“I see you’ve made your choice,_ ” The Deity observed, making Vergil dart his gaze back to the black-eyed bastard as he clasped his hands behind his back again. There was a smug air about him, a pleased one. He should have been spouting peacock feathers with a face like that, _“There is some common sense in your head after all.”_

_Dont. Don’t reply to that--he isn’t worthy of it._

Vergil grit his teeth, quite literally swallowing his pride and biting down on whatever retort was trying to make its way past his lips. If he was to be forced against the wall, he would play the Deity’s games, consequences be damned. Because the sooner he won, the sooner he could get you home to safety.

And from there...well. He was sure V would come up with something.

“Your name.” Vergil said shortly, tone clipped and anger as he sheathed the Yamato once more. He was tired of this prattle, and wanted to get on to this deal the being apparently wanted to make.

The God let out a low hum, turning away to look out at the Void and all its enigmatic glories as they floated by. A whale carcass, what looked to be a metal carriage, a marble statue. Like a world had shattered to pieces and scattered itself in the vast emptiness, but none of it felt familiar to his own world. What could have birthed a place like this, or worse, a creature like the nameless one before him? How did people come to worship a god who aligned himself with nothing but the cold and the dark? He remembered your pain, the nightmares that plagued you at night to make you relive the traumas of your past. A soft thing, one who was desperately kind and filled with wanting--that made it very obvious, did it not?

This man took advantage of those who had no other way out, in the deepest pits of despair. He sensed their longing, their pain, and turned it into his power.

 _“I have been called many names,”_ The black eyed bastard finally replied, stepping onto a floating piece of debris so he could run his hand over the runes written there. They looked ancient, unfamiliar, not in any language Vergil recognized, _“The men of the Abbey call me the Devil, others call me the mighty Leviathan.”_

He turned, leveling the Sparda with his deep, endless gaze as that smirk curved his lips once more.

_“You may call me…The Outsider.”_

_Outsider?_ Vergil gripped the handle of his Yamato, feeling even more unnerved when he realized how unfamiliar he was with this being. Of all the tomes and legends he had read, not one had mentioned a creature like this one...had they? He was racking his brain, trying to remember any lines of dialog that matched the Outsider’s description, or any of his names. Only one even remotely close came to mind, one he read in a library in his brief passing through an abandoned city. 

He hadn’t paid it much attention due to it not mentioning Sparda in the slightest, but the words on the yellow-stained page had seemingly stuck with him for a while now, hidden in his subconscious. Words depicting a traveler that jumped through the dark, one who seemingly had mysterious powers from a Leviathan who lived in the space between spaces. A tired man, serving a God who no one understood and disappearing just as fast.

Those who bear his mark earn his power.

He could remember a marking on you, right over your hip bone on the right side. A black mark, almost runic in nature--that had been his, hadn’t it?

“Outsider,” Vergil growled, patience waning faster if it wasn’t already gone, “State your business or be done with it.”

That made the God chuckle, hopping down from the debris where he hovered lightly in air, sitting on nothing and crossing his legs, _“You are a man seeking power, are you not?”_ He tipped his head to the side, regarding Vergil with an unreadable gaze and that flat smile as he continued, _“If there is anything I can provide you, it is such a thing--I can give you a prize of your choosing, make you as strong as Sparda himself if you can pass the trials I have laid out for you.”_

Vergil didn’t like the sound of this. When things seemed too good to be true, they generally were. But that deep, aching, yearning part of him that wanted to be strong, wanted to be past the defeat always plaguing him…

 _Don’t,_ V whispered, voice pleading and soft, _Please--this is not what she wants_.

He knew that. He did. But what more could be done now? A prize of his choosing, right?

What the God could provide was limitless, full of opportunity he didn’t otherwise have. Vergil found his eyes sliding over to you again, still immobilized on the pillar of crystal with no idea what was happening between them. There were cards that needed to be played here, and now the game was his to manipulate as he saw fit--not just for him, but for you as well.

Vergil felt strange...for once in his life, he felt like there was something beyond power to gain, something that would no longer burden you both. Your pain was not lost on him, a constant source of guilt that made his entire heart and being ache terribly. Every memory, every heartbeat, every touch...he was never deserving of you, never. You were made of good things, kindness and light compared to the shadow he had always lived in. How long had he lived only thinking for himself, full of selfish desires and that hunger for power? And all that had come from it was defeat, anger, pain, trauma. You had been the only light in his life for such a long time, showing his human half a love that had strengthened him. He had spat in the face of that kindness, breaking you down to nothing and hurting you in the worst possible way. Could someone such as him ever truly make you happy, especially with the things about himself he could not change.

He could never be vulnerable with you as V could. Never open himself to affection, soothe you when needed, be soft and gentle with your heart that was already broken.

But something still existed that could.

_Vergil…?_

_If I’m going to do right by someone, for once in my life...it has to be her. Her and no one else._

“I’m listening.”

The Outsider chuckled, teleporting down to stand in front of Vergil again and crossing his arms over his chest. This was exactly what the God wanted to hear--there was a hint of glee in those black eyes of his, as if he sensed the very line of thought Vergil possessed.

 _“Three trials, to see if you are truly strong enough to handle what power I can give you_ ,” He stated, smile fading a bit to something a bit more serious and cold as he met Vergil’s eyes, _“If you should succeed, I will give you whatever it is you desire. But should you succumb to my trials…”_

 _There will be punishment._ There was no missing the implications in his tone.

“...So be it,” Vergil replied with a slow breath, resigning himself to whatever fate the God had planned, “What will the punishment be if I should fail?”

 _We cannot afford to fail,_ V muttered, sounding anxious and annoyed with all that was laid out before them, _Not now, not here._

The Outsider took a step closer to Vergil, his black-eyed stare tilting to the side so he could gaze at your stricken form. There was something akin to sadness in his eyes, almost... _fatherly_ when he stared at your face and reached out a hand to touch you. Vergil wasn’t having that, grabbing the god’s wrist and halting him in place. Touching him was like asking for frostbite, but he couldn’t care less--there would be no approaching your form with those cold hands, not now, not ever. The Outsider was a source of your trauma and pain, so the son of Sparda was already uneasy about all the God’s actions in regards to you.

The Outsider clicked his tongue at Vergil’s firm intervention, pulling his arm back with the smirk replacing the look on his face.

 _“If you should fail,”_ He finally continued, keeping his stare on your blank face, _“She will return to the Void from whence she came, memory erased so I can send her along on a new task without distraction. And you,”_ He tilted his gaze back, expression turning cold as he hissed _, “Will be plunged into the Void, where you will suffer for every crime you have committed in your miserable existence.”_

_What?!_

_No no no._

_He can’t take her, can’t erase her! He--_

“Why her?!” Vergil protested, mind aligning with V again and taking on a hint of desperation, “Why punish her for my failings? She has a home in Fortuna, allow her to return to it and do what you will with me…!”

The Outsider clicked his tongue, shrugging off Vergil’s hand when it tried to grab his shoulder to hold him still, _“She is not without fault--those trials will be accompanied by her, so you’ll do your best not to fail, won’t you?”_

_God damn it. God DAMN It._

If he couldn’t handle what the deity had in mind, you would be another person he could not protect, doomed to continue this endless cycle of pain that had consumed your life for so long. All the happiness you found, the family, the hope...all destroyed in an instant and leaving you back in that mindset you had in the beginning. He may have been deserving of punishment, but you...all that you had done was become a victim to the whims of others, and that was not fair. Not to you, not to the ones who loved you in Fortuna. He could accept his fate--he had spent time trapped before, in the body of Nelo Angelo and in hell. Blood was on his hands, all the humans lost in the city from his mistake of the Qliphoth tree.

The guilt from his long life of selfish actions had finally caught up with him--of fate decided he belonged in the darkness and cold for his foolish mistakes...then so be it.

He could swallow his own trauma and accept his fate. But yours...what else could he do? There was no refusing, and no way out. These were the whims of a God, one who could not and would not be challenged in his own domain. Vergil had to bite his tongue and steel himself to take on whatever this creature had planned. As long as he had the sword, he could fight until he was bleeding on the ground.

A son of Sparda would be damned before they bowed in submission to a being like this.

“So be it.” He replied, squeezing the hilt of the Yamato so hard his knuckles turned white and meeting the Outsider’s endless eyes. The resolve there seemed to please a God, earning Vergil a dark smile that spoke volumes of what was in store for him.

 _“Good luck, Vergil Sparda,_ ” He replied in a low tone, his eyes flickering over to you as his body started to turn in to black crystal again, _“I pray to the Void that, for her sake, you succeed in what I have in store for you.”_

With that, he was gone. Disappearing into nothingness and leaving a heavy silence in his wake.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I...am sorry in advance for this. If you have issues with panic or death, this chapter might not be for you. Have fun lads

_Chapter 36_

The darkness weighing you down snapped away just as quickly as it came.

All the breath left your lungs in a sharp exhale, vision reappearing as the sound of the Void assaulted your ears. Whatever was wrapped around your arms vanished, tendrils retreating back into the burning expanse of your body like they were almost ashamed of betraying your trust. As they very well should be--you were getting tired of your own body being outside of your control, but there were more important things to worry about. When your eyes finally regained their vision, you were shocked to see the wooden beams of the ceiling forming above you after a flurry of black crystal. No longer the endless emptiness of the Void, the sound of howling fading to a dull roar until disappearing entirely. _But...we’re not home, are we? It’s still cold, it’s still so cold here, so much that I can’t stand it._

_I want to go home._

Arms caught you when you fell, Vergil’s low grunt easily signalling to you that it was him who held your body up--his face appeared in your vision next, teeth grit and worry in those sharp eyes. Worry and... _anger._ He looked furious, annoyed, and a bit concerned if you were searching hard enough. It was clear to you that something had happened while you were subdued, something that wasn’t good. Why did the Deity change your surroundings? What had he spoken to Vergil about in the first place? So many questions, not enough answers and bringing back that feeling of ignorance that had left you so hollow for all these months. You didn’t know how much more you could take, but this was definitely starting to get past your realm of capability.

 _Stop,_ You tried to tell yourself, heart picking up again and hammering against your ribs, _Panicking will help nothing, and it certainly won’t help him--He needs you to be steadfast, focused, and you owe him that much at least._

_After all...had you not involved yourself in his life, this mess would have never happened._

“Are you hurt?” Vergil’s low growl snapped you out of the racing thoughts, searching your face for any indication of pain outside of your look of panic and confusion, “Can you stand?”

Your breath was still coming in shallow gasps, body struggling to root itself in reality as you started frantically looking around. Just what the hell was this place…? You certainly didn’t recognize anything--it seemed like you were both in a kitchen, despite how unlikely it seemed. A beautiful one too, with tiles making patterns of flowers on the back wall and cherrywood cabinets lining one side. As you looked further, you saw a kettle on the stove and what looked to be the remnants of some baking going on. The illusion was so real that you could start feeling the cold of the Void dissipate, replaced by the golden rays of the sun coming through the open windows. _It’s warm outside,_ your brain told you, despite the logic section of your mind screaming away in alarm. The scent of freshly baked cookies came next, making your mouth water and eyes widen further in confusion. What was the meaning of all of this, why had the Deity gone out of his way to create such an elaborate illusion?

_None of this makes sense. None of it._

“ _Where are we?”_ You whispered anxiously, feeling no sense of ease despite how calm the feeling of this kitchen was. None of this should be taken as a good thing, you knew that much. The Deity was playing a game, and one that you didn’t understand.

But when you looked back at Vergil’s face...you could tell this game wasn’t for you.

He was not as composed as before, that was for certain. You could see a new level of panic and recognition in his eyes, one that made your chest ache with fear and apprehension--had you ever seen a look like that on Vergil before? Like his world was starting to crumble around him and there were walls just barely holding the flood in. If he grit his teeth any harder, his jaw was bound to snap under the pressure, breaths coming in harsh pants that did not slow. _He is scared_ , you realized right away, catching the subtleties in his expression now and learning how he functioned. Anger was one of his ways to cope with fear, and judging by how furious he looked, this whole situation was rubbing him in the worst way possible.

What could you do to help? Everything was so raw from the harsh words that left you before, like open wounds still stinging with the swipe of claws and blades. This was a place of familiarity to Vergil, one of regret. He looked like he wanted to bolt, but you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the spot. You were already trying to bounce back from your own problems after the Deity tethered you down and took your senses away, how could you possibly be stable for anyone now? Vergil was in distress, that much was clear, but you could do nothing.

It was confirmed by his reply, Vergil helping support you with one hand as he rasped, “The Outsider has quite the cruel sense of humor, doesn’t he?”

_Excuse me?_

Hearing the God’s true name on his lips made you jolt, more shock zipping through your head and coming out in a gasp. How long has it been since you heard that name uttered aloud? Only once had it graced your lips, sealed shut after you sold your soul as a showing of respect for the God. But now...Vergil knew his name. And that did not speak well for your situation.

“Y...you…” Each word came out in a panicked whisper, hand grasping the collar of Vergil’s coat between tight fingertips as you stared at his face in absolute despair, “You know his name…! Vergil you...you.. _.what did you do…?!”_

_To learn the name of the God is to make a deal with him._

You prayed to the Void that wasn’t the case, that this was all by chance or strange consequence. But...you knew better, especially when Vergil looked away from your pleading eyes with something akin to regret.

“Your God means to test me,” Was his simple reply, voice low and terse as he slowly rose to his feet, “I had thought he meant a test of my fighting prowess, but…” He looked sullen, visibly uncomfortable as he gazed around the kitchen like it was nostalgic and...draining, “The bastard knows better, doesn’t he?”

A test? What kind of test? _And why?_ Your mind was a whirlwind of questions and fears, all resisting to be tethered down and stabilized by reality.

You scrambled to your feet before he could even turn to look at you, swaying a bit and steadying yourself on the table--solid, real, it was actually there under your fingertips. The lengths the Deity-- _No, the Outsider_ \--was willing to go for his little games astounded you like nothing else. Everything in the room had solidity, as if it was all real down to the spice rack hanging on one wall. But what purpose did this all serve in the grand scheme of things? A test, one for Vergil, and by the looks of it he was already feeling the strain. It wouldn’t take any brilliant brainstorming to figure out this was a place of regret for him, it was written all over his face and easy to read for once. But this supposed test was now at the forefront of your focus, especially considering the God was including you in it.

“Did you make a deal with him…?” You grabbed Vergil by the hand, forcing him to turn and look you in the eyes and finding your sense of balance again, _“Please tell me you didn’t…!”_

Surprisingly enough, he didn’t pull back from your grasp. Merely tilting his eyes to meet yours, something akin to apprehension flashing in his eyes before he released a light sigh.

“Making a deal implies I had a choice,” He replied, annoyance in his tone and several implications laden throughout, “Which I did not. The Outsider has his own ideas on how things should go, and gave me his threats in kind.”

 _Threats? The Outsider threatened him?_ That didn’t sound right at all, especially after all the interactions you had. When he had found you adrift in the Void, he had made everything your choice, given you every opportunity to refuse and had been a guiding force through all your suffering. There had been a period of pain, but that was contributed to absorbing the power of the Void. As for all the missions that came afterward...he never forced you into those either. At some point you started very willingly taking them, wanting some time out of the Void to discover yourself again. No trials, nothing like that for all you could remember. Why was he doing things so differently for Vergil, especially now?

And why was he allowing you to take part in it?

You felt your shoulders tense a bit, gaze traveling over the unfamiliar space with deep wariness, “This...doesn’t sound right...I don’t understand his motives,” You murmured, instinctively squeezing his fingers as a means to steady both yourself and him, “What is this place, why did he choose this to test you?”

Vergil visibly went rigid at the question, jaw tightening again and apprehension flickering in his gaze. As if on cue, a new sound filled the air over the birds chirping outside, one much louder and echoing through the nearby rooms. _The voices of children_ , growing in tempo and shouting at each other in argument. It made you both jolt, your fingers feeling Vergil shudder like he had been doused in ice water. He blanched, seemingly getting paler and expression freezing like a deer in the headlights as he whipped his head around toward the sound. It wasn’t that far off, easily just doors away from where you both were and clear as a summer day. If this was meant to test Vergil, what was the test supposed to be in the first place? To test his resilience? Courage? Dedication?

It became all too clear what this place was just by the children talking. Their voices rang loud and clear through the hallway, followed by the pattering of feet approaching quickly down the hall. You tensed hard, heart hammering in your chest once you realized they were heading for the kitchen where you and the surly male were still standing. This was an illusion, right? You hadn’t be teleported into the past, they wouldn’t be able to interact with you like normal people would. That was if the Outsider hadn’t gone the extra step to make it so, which was completely outside your realm of understanding.

“Give it back! _Give it back!”_

“No way! _Not till you spar with me!”_

The kitchen doorway burst open in a flash of white hair, both you and Vergil backing up against the wall as two boys tumbled in a flurry of limbs onto the floor. You felt your eyes widen at the sight of them, mind clicking several things into place. A child with slicked back hair looked furious, trying to grab what looked to be a book from an equally frazzled looking boy, both yelling and struggling in their efforts. The one holding the book  had hair a lot messier, framing his adorable face like a halo.

 _Vergil...and Dante?_ But so young, bright eyed and full of energy and innocence. A far cry from the two adults you had seen that very same day, from the one standing right next to you. But he was there in those sharp eyes and annoyed scowl, pressing one foot to Dante’s face as he tried to pry a book from his hands.

And, thankfully, neither seemed to see you or Vergil at all. Which was the only plus side, especially considering how absolutely frozen the son of Sparda seemed to be. You doubted be could pry his jaw apart for anything in that moment, so tense you were afraid he would break something. There was a stunned recognition in his eyes, one that spoke of just how long it had been since this moment all those years ago--he remembered it, didn’t he? His hand was now clenched around yours so tightly it was to the point of pain, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him to let go.

“Come on…!” Dante whined, drawing your attention back to the struggling children as he tried to tuck the novel against his chest in a last ditch effort to keep it from his brother, “Just an hour and you can have the book back…! _Please_!”

Vergil let out a sound of annoyance, his voice so young and soft in comparison to the surly man holding your hand as he snapped, “I said no! Stop taking my stuff…!”

This sibling conflict they seemed to have extended much farther than you expected, even to when they were children. You would have figured being twins would help them get along easier, but...their personality types seemed to clash. What could have caused that? Vergil had always seemed surly and bitter in disposition compared to Dante, but you assumed that was due to what happened after losing his mother. But...it seemed like even as a child he was grumpy, a tired look in his eyes and a hint of malice there for his twin. Or...was that resentment, jealousy?

You looked to Vergil for some kind of answer, even knowing there would be none. What could you say that would calm him at a time like this? To see oneself in a younger form, to relive a moment of time that had long passed...He looked uneasy, a rare occurrence for someone like him. And that is what this was, a look into his past.

When the Outsider tested someone, he never did it halfway, and from V’s soft-spoken recollections of the memories plaguing him, it brought forth great pain. Your sense of dread grew in spades, knowing damn well exactly what messed up Vergil as a child--losing his mother at a young age. This was starting to feel less and less like a test, and more like a punishment. Was the Outsider intending to make Vergil relive his past trauma? What the hell would that do other than make him retreat deeper inside his own mind, building up those walls higher?

You took a step closer to him, still letting him grasp your hand hard enough you were certain you would lose circulation, “Vergil...did you fight with Dante a lot at this age?”

Your voice made him jolt, as if you had seemingly shaken him from a trance. He ripped his eyes away from the forms of his former self and his brother, expression like stone as he met your eyes.

_He looks cold and angry, but I think he’s scared of what’s to come._

“...Always,” He replied after some pause, tone clipped and hard as his icy blue eyes flickered back to the two wrestling brothers shouting at each other on the kitchen floor. Something dark was in his gaze, heavy and filled with resentment, “Dante was always a brat, and mother always...she…”

His words trailed off at the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps, echoing through the hall toward the kitchen door. Both boys froze when the door opened again, a woman appearing in the doorway with an expression of motherly disappointment--Vergil froze too, whatever he was about to say dying in his throat at the sight of her. Poised and beautiful, she stared down at the two boys and crossed her arms, a vision of blonde hair and red robes. There was no doubting who she was, judging by the way she eyed the twins and the way Vergil stared at her with sharp, conflicted eyes.

This was Eva, Vergil and Dante’s mother.

V had spoken of her in brief spurts during your travels with him, and always with great hesitation and vague descriptions. He claimed her to be a good mother, and you could tell he definitely loved her. But...there was always an underlying bitterness, something that made him cold and sad in regards to her--lonely. There was no denying her passing brought him unbelievable grief and trauma, and it showed in Vergil’s eyes the moment she stepped through the door. You didn’t even remember your parents...how must it feel to see her after all these years, after all he had been through without her?

_Damaging._

“Fighting again?” Eva sighed incredulously, plucking both boys up from the floor and under each arm so she could place them on their feet, “Who started it this time?”

Both of the frazzled boys stubbornly pointed at each other, Dante beginning to grow teary eyed and sniffling. Those blue eyes were round and teary, breath hitching with sobs that wanted to wiggle their way out. He immediately started to cry, which made young Vergil flinch and step away from him. Was that frustration in his eyes? Certainly looked like it.

It tripled when Dante let out a hiccuping sob, rubbing some of the tears from his eyes as he cried, “ _I...I just wanted Vergil to play with m...me…! He never wants to play with me…!”_

Dante was obviously the more emotional of the two...or at least it seemed that way. Vergil was more driven by his emotions than he was willing to admit, you knew that much. Reading children was far easier than adults--little Vergil looked like he was barely containing his own emotions, his own frustrations, jaw clenched in a similar way to his older counterpart. Dante’s actions brought a silent anger to his face, and what looked to be a hint of despair. You were trying to figure out what brought out such a reaction when Eva crouched down, a look of sympathy in her eyes as she wiped the tears from Dante’s face with gentle fingers.

Easily swayed by tears, it would seem. But Vergil wasn’t the type to cry.

“Oh sweetie,” She sighed, cupping his wet cheeks between her hands and staring at him with soft, adoring eyes, “You know not to bother your brother when he’s reading, right?”

Dante sniffled and nodded, looking immediately crestfallen by his mother’s soft rebuttal. Eva paused, a bit of a conflicted look in her eyes as they flickered to Vergil, taking in his annoyed expression and stiff posture as he stared right back. Her adoration did not dim in the slightest, but as soon as she looked at younger Vergil the one at your side flinched, fingers twitching in your grasp and letting some blood flow back. You immediately looked at him, surprised to see something cold and bitter in his expression, echoing what V had showed you all those months ago.

“But...maybe you can take just a little time to play with you brother?” Eva suggested gently, tucking some of Dante’s unkempt hair behind his ear, “Let’s try and compromise, okay? A little play time now, then reading after.”

Young Vergil didn’t like her answer. You saw that frustration coil and snap in his eyes, little shoulders trembling as he turned his gaze away from his mother. Before she could react, he snatched the book out of Dante’s hands, making a dash for the back door out of the kitchen with tears of anger in his eyes. For a moment, things seemed to slow, the boy passing right by you and allowing you to see his face.

Underneath that anger was something very sad, full of despair and dejection. _Hurt._ It wasn’t that his twin was more emotional, it was Vergil felt a lot more reluctant to show that emotion. He was trying to bolt before his mother saw him crying, before he showed the same depth of emotion his brother had. It was almost like...he saw this as a form of betrayal from Eva, like she had slapped him in the face without touching him.

But...why?

 _“I hate you, Dante!”_ He spat as he ripped open the door, Eva gasping as she tried to stop him from rushing outside. But he was a lot smaller and faster, sprinting off and out of sight before her fingers could grasp his arm. 

Dante’s expression crumpled further from Vergil’s harsh words, tears forming again and running down his cheeks in rivets as he started wailing. The room was so loud now, you didn’t know what to do--there was an instinct to follow after the little boy as he left, but...something told you that you needed to stay, and Vergil too. You saw him try to move toward the open door where his mother stood, but he froze in place a moment later with the Void’s whispers forming all around you both.

_No no._

_No running away._

_You will see. You will see with your own eyes what you base your foolish hatred on._

What the hell did that mean? And why were you able to hear them when this trial was clearly meant for Vergil?

There was clearly something here that the Void wanted him to see, that the Outsider meant to test him with. You knew only what V had told you, but…there was a feeling there tickling on the edge of your mind, one that had burst out when you were shouting at Vergil before. Why hadn’t it clicked with you then, in that moment of heat and anger? You had said something that was confusing even to you, especially considering the fact that it was something V had not told you in his stories. They had been so vague, just informing you of her death and how he wandered alone. But...you knew something, and it had burst from your lips like razors to cut Vergil in that time of pain.

_But nothing will change the fact that you knew she was coming looking for you when she died._

“Vergil…” You whispered, voice soft and lilting as you squeezed his clammy digits, “Is...is this the day your mother--”

But he wouldn’t let you form the sentence, cutting you off before the words left your mouth.

“She always preferred Dante,” His tone was terse, eyes refusing to meet yours as he watched Eva yell after his younger self, begging him to come back even as he refused to listen. But she didn’t give chase, eyes darting back to the other boy sobbing on the kitchen floor, “He was her favorite, after all. Even at the end, she would rather stay with him and leave me behind.”

 _Is...that what this was about?_ You stared at him in shock, a few things clicking into place within your thoughts. That bitterness he carried with him...was that because he felt like his mother liked Dante more than him, loved the other twin more? As a child, some of the complications of being a parent and doing the right thing by your kids could be easily interpreted as a lack of love in the eyes of a child. Eva looked at both her sons with equal, loving eyes, but...to solve the conflict she tried to appeal to Dante’s wants, which left Vergil hurt. But it felt like more than that, running deeper and angrier than you could comprehend from a few moments of observing.

He felt like she had left him behind...because when he ran away, she didn’t go after him. She stayed with Dante to comfort him before all the conflict started, leaving him to whatever fate was to come. How heartbreaking, to realize how much that must have hurt him at such a young, tender age. A sense of abandonment was weighing on his shoulders, festering after years and years of trauma and warping into something deep and bitter--of course he felt this way, he had a long time of convincing himself of it, his emotions trying to find something or someone to blame for his pain.

“Did she though...?” You whispered, watching Eva wipe away Dante’s tears, eyes still shifting between him and the door the other boy had ran out of. There was worry written on her face, torn because she couldn’t very well leave one alone to follow the other. Where the hell was their father when all this was happening? What had happened to the notorious demon lord Sparda? “I think...I think that’s what this is about, Vergil...the Outsider means for you to see the other side of the story.”

Problem was...you were sure Vergil didn’t want to see it.

“ _What does this matter?_ ” He hissed, whipping his hand out of yours and turning away from the sight of his mother comforting the distraught form of his sibling. He carded a hand angrily through his slicked back hair, eyes narrowing on the floor as he snarled, “This is all of little consequence. The past does not matter…!”

_But it clearly does...especially when it’s the source of so much pain._

_Pain the Outsider wants him to live through._

_But...why?_

You reached out and grabbed his hand again, halting him in place before he could start pacing as you replied louder, more forcefully, “It _does_ matter--Because you’ve spent all this time refusing to acknowledge it, running away from it…!” Vergil looked back at you with a scowl, brow furrowed and fingers twitching in your grasp, “You feel content enough to continue living in ignorance, thinking that she abandoned you, but is that really the case?”

“And who are you to talk about running away from pain?” Vergil hissed in quick response, talking a step closer so he towered over your form. He lifted your hand away, eyes locked on yours and completely unyielding as he snarled, “So easy for you to just have your trauma erased, left with your weak counterparts so you can live without dealing with it…! Some of us aren’t so lucky…!”

_He wants you to get mad, he wants you to lash out at him in an attempt to help him cope with what he’s feeling right now. But it doesn’t make what he said hurt any less._

You took a few deep, measured breaths, pushing down the anger and indignation his comments sparked. This didn’t warrant another fight, it wasn’t worth the time when this situation was so dire to begin with. Besides...you didn’t have to reprimand him. He flinched as soon as your hurt expression registered in his mind, agony flashing across his expression and falling to one knee with a hand to his temple. Just like before when he talked to you--each terse comment seemed lined with pain.

_Why? What is going on?_

You felt your anger starting to drain, crouching down next to him and watching his expression start drifting into anguish again. This trial...it was meant to hurt him, that much was apparent. And it was working, he was growing less and less in control of himself. How long had he sat on these traumas, refusing to acknowledge them and painting those warped images in his head? Years of suffering, convincing himself that gaining power was the only answer, the only way to make sure he didn’t feel so hurt again.

You kept your tone soft, placing a hand on his slicked back hair and feeling him jolt at even that slight touch. Providing comfort for him felt...strange, like it was meant to happen yet also not. It came coupled with that feeling of being split in two, the one that started when he kissed you, “It seems that way...doesn’t it?” You could feel them there, the ghosts of memories that had been taken from you so many times over. The lingering anguish without a point to tether it too, trauma that spoke with no voice, “But...I ended up in the Void for a reason, Vergil...Those memories were not taken from me to avoid pain, _they were taken because the amount of pain they caused broke me to the point I could no longer exist with them.”_

That made him take pause, his hand slowly lowering from his temple and the pain fading from his expression. Exhaustion was left in its wake, teetering on the edge of absolute stress.

When he said nothing in reply, you continued, sad smile on your lips as you refused to take your gaze from his face, “But this isn’t about me or what I feel...this is about you, Vergil. The Outsider wanted you to see this for a reason.”

And whatever that reason was, to either teach him or torture him...you didn’t know. But there was no running away from it.

“Oh sweetie--please don’t cry. I promise everything will be okay.”

Eva’s soft voice made you both pause, turning to see her pull out a handkerchief to dab at Dante’s tears. He was still sitting on the floor, hiccuping with the force of his sobs and puffy cheeked. Far more distressed than before it would seem, his mother’s words seemed to barely comfort him at all. Only now his focus was off of the book and sparring, taking a complete turn from how mad he just was at Vergil. His blue eyes were filled with anguish, distraught and full of despair as he stared at the door his younger twin had bolted from moments prior.

 _“He hates me…!_ ” The little boy sobbed, hiccuping a few times in between his words and sniffling incredibly loud, “ _Vergil...h…he hates me…! I just wanted t...to play…! I don’t want him to hate me…!”_

Ouch, that hurt a bit. Dante was now upset because of what the older twin had said in a fit of anger, taking it quite literally and growing distraught as a result. The older brother at your side stared at Dante with a frown, expression back to being unreadable as you both watched the little boy cry away, completely heartbroken. 

Vergil rose to his feet, taking a step closer to watch the interaction between his brother and mother with a furrowed brow, something akin to confusion flickering in his eyes through the tight-lipped expression he wore. You remained close to him, knowing damn well you weren’t here to interfere, only to support him as he needed it. And judging by how taunt his shoulders were, hands balled into tight fists...something about this scene bothered him greatly.

_Dante really loved his brother...didn’t he?_

Eva looked softly at her child, stroking back his white hair in an attempt to soothe his tears and calm him down. You didn’t know what to expect from her, confused by all that Vergil and V had claimed about her in regards to liking Dante more. But...there were so many complications that came with being a mother, especially to twin boys so different in personality. How could she make one happy without upsetting the other? And in her attempt to find the middle ground between the two, could it have left an impression that she valued Dante more? And Vergil would have never been the type to talk to her about it, bottling it all in to suffer in silence until little outbursts like that happened.

There was no denying that Vergil still loved her, though. And that was what made it the most hurtful for the son of Sparda, caring so much about his parent but feeling like he was always secondary to Dante. Then came the pain of wanting to protect her, wanting to save her when the calamity befell their family, but not getting the chance to. His whole set of ideals and wants was shaped by this day...wasn’t it? By Eva, by losing his mother and carrying the guilt of it on his shoulders until his back bowed from the weight of it. It showed in those icy eyes, regret and pain in those depths as she comforted Dante like you were willing to bet he had wanted to be comforted.

_You made V feel protected and loved._

_And in the end...that’s what Vergil craves too, isn’t it?_

“Vergil does not hate you, sweetheart,” Eva soothed, pressing a gentle kiss to his brow and leaning back with a small smile, “He’s just upset, he didn’t mean it.”

That managed to get through to the distraught child, making his hiccuping slow to small whimpers and sniffles, his eyes red and puffy from crying as he stared at his mother with something small and hopeful. How this cute, tiny child turned into the rugged Devil Hunter you knew from the future, you didn’t know. The two seemed world’s apart.

“R...really?” He croaked, voice cracked and broken from crying and wailing so much.

Eva smiled brighter, ruffling his hair with her free hand and replying in a kind tone, “I promise, your brother loves you very much. His temper just makes him say mean things sometimes,” She cupped his cheeks playfully, squishing them together as she teased, “Just as your temper makes you say mean things to him too, or take his books away when he’s reading them.”

Dante puffed up at that, looking a bit embarrassed once he realized his mother was reprimanding him for taking his brother’s things. He looked a bit ridiculous with his watery eyes and bright red cheeks, but that just came with the territory of crying. Eva giggled at his expression, leaning forward to press a loud, exaggerated kiss to his forehead and lean back with an encouraging smile.

“I love you both so much, you know that?” She pinched one of his cheeks, making him whine in annoyance and try to pull away, “How about we get some cookies and juice and go apologize to Vergil together? And maybe take turns too--some days he plays with you, and some days you read with him. You two have to look out for each other, and that means sharing in what your brother loves too.”

Her response made the older Sparda at your side freeze, shock making a home in his expression. This was the other half of the story, the things he never got to see when he ran off in his fit of anger. To live his entire life thinking his mother didn’t care, to hear her trying the very best she could to find a middle ground that would make him happy too...it defied all that he had taught himself, didn’t it? There was obvious caring in her tone, a motherly love that extended far beyond what you could understand. It made you a bit jealous--you couldn’t remember your own mother, but you got the feeling she was nothing like Eva, nowhere near as kind and loving.

But...this wasn’t about you. It was about them.

Dante perked up at his mother’s words, but nodded in slow understanding to her request. You could tell the idea of reading didn’t appeal to him very much, but...he was willing to give it a go if it meant making Vergil happy. In fact...he looked a bit guilty too for upsetting his brother, rubbing one of his arms and drifting his gaze back to the door Vergil had ran from.

“O...okay,” He mumbled, snuffling again and letting Eva wipe his nose with the handkerchief, “Can we make more cookies later too?”

Eva laughed again, rising to her feet and taking Dante’s little hand in her own with very gentle fingers, “Of course, sweetie. Now let’s go find Vergil--I bet he’s at the playground again.”

She picked up Dante from the floor, holding him easily with one arm despite him being an average sized eight year old. The motion brushed her right by the frozen son of Sparda watching with wide eyes. This was not what he expected to see, to hear, that was clearer than the sun starting to set outside. His mother passed right through him like he was a ghost, completely oblivious to his presence and moving toward the fridge for the juice she meant to take to her other son, the one who had fled away in anger. _Himself_ \--and what a strange thing that had to be, to know she meant him all the best in the world after thinking for so long that she cared about Dante more, that she just wanted to make them both happy.

_It was hard. It had to be so hard._

You took a step closer to Vergil, watching the way he sucked in a slow breath between his lips and let it out, trying to find his composure. He lifted a hand to card his fingers through those silver locks, seeming at a loss for words. And honestly, could you blame him? One rarely wanted to face that which brought them agony, and he was literally being shoved into a room with truths his mind had fought for so many years. There was denial in his eyes, and frustrations you could both understand and not. Part of you wondered why so many things had fallen apart in your own life, and there had to be things that were different through your eyes compared to others.

There were always two sides to a story. Yours, theirs, and the truth that lay somewhere in the middle.

“She really cared about you,” Your voice was soft, barely heard over Dante chattering with Eva about what kind of cookies Vergil liked. _Chocolate chip? He liked the peanut butter blossoms more, Mommy--_ “They both do...a whole lot. I guess...it was just hard to see.”

Vergil didn’t reply, still not meeting your eyes with those broad shoulders held stiff, unmoving. You thought you saw his fist clench, but he turned away from you before it could register in your vision. He sat down at one of the chairs at the table, resting his head on his hands and closing his eyes, like the whole situation exhausted him beyond belief. But the anger was still there, hands shaking like he was resisting ripping the whole room apart. It would have done no good, and it wouldn't have helped.

“What if,” His rasping voice surprised you, coming from his lips low and full of doubts, “What if this is all fake, made up truths by your foolish God? Why should I believe a single thing that happens here?”

You sighed at that, sitting down at the table next to him. There was a point in his words--there really was no reason for Vergil to trust the God, but…

“I think you’ve known for a while that this is the truth,” You replied, voice steadier than you felt as you pulled your knees up to your chest, “But you never wanted to admit it. Trying to find something to blame for everything that hurt you, trying to cope. The Outsider is an omniscient being, he can see all and everything...He knows your trauma, your past, everything that happened,” you lifted your gaze, meeting Vergil’s cold eyes when they opened again and refusing to be swayed, “But he has no reason to show you something fake. This is about you running from the truth, Vergil, from your past. What value does it have if he shows you something untrue?”

Your response seemed to make him even more unhappy, a scowl forming on his lips and eyes looking away. The truth could be so painful, couldn’t it? When you found out the reality about V, it had sliced you open and left you bleeding out on the Qliphoth floor. But...it had been so needed, shaping you into who you were at that exact moment. And you refused to regret it.

“It doesn’t change the fact that she never tried to save me,” Vergil’s low hiss drew your thoughts back, watching as he started drumming his fingers on the hardwood--a nervous tick, it would seem, “She saved Dante, and I was--”

His words were cut off from loud screams in the distance outside.

Your head snapped up the same time his did, seeing several windows in the hallway shatter in a burst of flame that rained shards down onto the floor. Eva and Dante screamed, the bottle of juice breaking on the floor as she ducked down to shield his body with her own. What was that _stench_? Like rotting bodies mixed with sulfur--the scent of demons, you realized, scrambling up from the chair just as something shot by the kitchen windows, blowing a trail of fire in its wake. Vergil instantly grabbed you, pulling you back to the kitchen wall and putting out an arm when the kitchen windows shattered inward, raining shards on Eva and Dante. _Help them_! Your mind was screaming, trying to push your body forward, but one of the glass shards sliced the skin on your arm, making you yelp and stare at it in alarm.

_We can still be hurt by this illusion?_

Vergil was panting next to you, breaths coming in rasping gasps as Eva scrambled up from the floor, holding Dante’s wailing form against her with a look of absolute panic in her eyes. You could tell by her expression that she knew exactly what was happening, and it was just what she had feared. Her first instinct was to protect her child, seeing demon after demon starting to advance on the house, attacking other homes far in the distance and bringing chaos and destruction in their wake. Black smoke was billowing from the curtains, the wallpaper beginning to glow like embers and curl up from the heat. After all, a demon’s fire was not something to take lightly.

This was it...the calamity that had broken Dante and Vergil apart.

“Vergil…!” You grabbed his jacket firmly, yanking him down when another blast of fire sent the table flying up at you both. He snapped out of his dazed state instantly, cutting the table in half with the Yamato and pulling you to the side quick enough to avoid the smoke and flames.

_Too close._

Eva swallowed a scream, putting one hand to her mouth and holding Dante close with the other. You saw her cough heavily, turning on her heels and sprinting through the hallway before it could catch fire completely. _We have to go, we have to see!_ Your mind was scrambling, the chaos of the situation weighing down far heavily than you could have imagined. The room was starting to fill with smoke and ember, making you cough as well and practically gag and the horrible smell. You couldn’t stay, this room would be up in flames any moment. The Void was beginning to whisper, urging you both to move and give chase after Vergil’s mother, but…

He seemed rooted to the spot, staring at the doorway she had disappeared in with an expression of stony panic.

You grabbed his hand, trying to pull him along before the flames grew any higher. It was starting to grow so hot, burning and threatening to scorch your skin.

“We need to go…!” You coughed at him, grasping his hand and wrist to desperately tug him along, _“Please…_! We can’t stay here, we need to make sure they’re okay…!”

His fingers were shaking. _He was shaking._

“I…” He rasped, voice low and barely audible over the crackle of flames, of demonic claws scraping the doorway and windows as they tried to force their way in, “ _I cannot...I do not want to see…!”_

_He’s scared.  
_

_He doesn’t want to be proven wrong, to live through his mother’s death again._

_You were right--this isn’t a trial. This is a punishment._

But there was no other choice.

You steeled your own nerves, squeezing his fingers as tightly as you could and summoning a tendril to lift his chin up a bit. Meeting your eyes, seeing the resolve there and the panic of his own gaze reflected back. Vergil had hurt you, and you had hurt him...but you knew his trauma, knew V was inside his body aching to be acknowledged, to be embraced by the silver-haired half demon. And that part of him was something you couldn’t let go, these feelings refused to leave. Because at the end of the day, you still cared about V, and by proxy you cared about Vergil too. He was suffering, he was hurt and he needed someone, anyone.

_He just wanted to be protected and loved._

“ _I will be with you_ ,” Your voice was soft, a whisper that mingled with the fire crackling in your eyes’ reflection, “But this is your trial Vergil, and you can’t run away from it…!”

_I will be here._

_I swear it._

_This time, someone will be there to catch you as you fall._

Dante’s sharp cries filled the air, making you and Vergil jolt in shock and whip around toward the sound. The son of Sparda still paused, seeming torn between his need to flee and the need to see what was going on. To face one’s trauma was not an easy thing, you knew that, you understood that more than anything. But... He didn't have long to think on it, there would be no time. The fire was curling up toward the ceiling, sending a beam crashing down right next to you both and making you yelp in alarm and move back. The heat from it made you jerk your free arm back, feeling the sting of glowing hot embers on your skin before they flickered and died. _There’s no more time._ Vergil let out a hiss, tugging you out of the way and moving quickly for the doorway just as demons started crawling onto the kitchen tile.

You held onto his fingers, keeping to the wall and coughing through the fire. Your free hand grazed picture frames, seeing smiling faces of family photos, of the children laughing with their mother...and their father? Vergil was moving you too fast to tell. He pulled you down a long hallway, seeming to remember the way through his former home despite all the time that had passed. You had to pass through what looked to be a sitting room, one that was still littered with books and papers from the boys’ homework. It was already catching flame, a demon trying to scramble through the window and screeching in anger and rage. Every instinct told you to attack, but Vergil proved it was of no use. He slashed with the Yamato, a snarl breaking past his calm facade when the sword passed harmlessly through the illusion.

_We are helpless--how come this can hurt us but we can’t hurt them?_

There was no time to dwell on it, hurrying along until you reached a foyer leading to the main doors of the home. You jolted with recognition, seeing the family portrait hanging above the mantle and the familiar floors you had once stood on with Dante, only more pristine and fresh. Not for long. A blast of fire sent Eva and Dante sprawling away from each other, the little boy hitting the floor hard and closing his eyes. A brief moment of panic hit you, resisting the urge to help him up with every part of your being, but it would never work. You and Vergil pressed against a nearby pillar, your ears ringing from the sound and lungs feeling taxed and overworked.

Vergil stared on with a numb expression, watching his mother pick herself off the floor with a low gasp and press a hand to her temple. She immediately saw Dante lying prone, scrambling to her feet and rushing over to pick him up. What could have possibly been going through her mind in such chaos? Fear, determination to save her child, despair? She didn’t hesitate to help Dante off the floor, breathless and desperate to move before any demons made their way into the foyer, seeing them in their attempts to escape. Problem was...there was no way out, the fire was growing everywhere, soon the whole mansion would be swallowed up by the burning red and orange hues.

“Come here…!” She whispered urgently to the dazed looking boy, ushering him into a nearby broom closet despite how he stumbled and swayed on his feet. She pushed him inside, placing both hands on the double doors and staring at him with teary eyes, “You need to hide, Dante…! No matter what happens, you mustn’t leave..!”

Inside a closet in a burning house? The very idea made your own fear and worry spike, staring at the tear-stained face of the little boy, half stained by soot as he gazed up at his mother. How terrifying it must have been, going from a moment of calm family life to mortal peril in an instant? Made worse by her continuing words, tempered with desperation.

Banging sounded at the door, sounding like demons trying to claw their way through to the foyer. Eva breathed heavily, turning her gaze back to the little boy and continuing shakily, “I need to find Vergil, I promise I’ll be back…!” She reached out to cup his cheeks when he started to hyperventilate, panic filling his wide eyes and followed by fresh tears. The Sparda at your side stared with wide eyes at her words, fingers stiffening in your grasp and squeezing tight enough to hurt again.

He thought she didn’t even try to save him, but she--

“I know this is hard…! You must listen to me--be a big boy, a man, huh?” Eva smiled as encouragingly as she could manage in such a dire situation, her own eyes filling with tears as she nodded at the distraught little boy. Dante swallowed his cries, nodding back shakily and pressing his fingers to her hands.

Eva paused, taking what you knew would be her final moment with her son, looking him over, memorizing every part of his face and stroking his cheeks with her gentle fingers. This would be the last time Dante would see her, touch her, feel his mother’s love and affection. _And Vergil knew it too_. His breath started to come in low pants, jaw clenched tightly and eyes alight with pain and anger. You stepped closer to him, wincing at the heat of the flames and feeling tears burn your eyes at the sight before you. _This was too much, it hurt so much._ This tragedy wasn’t yours, but it was clawing away at you inside like the flames themselves had shot down your throat.

They burned more by Vegril’s words, so quiet at first you weren’t sure if you heard them.

“It’s...it’s not fair…” He whispered, his usually cold voice sounding absolutely wrecked as he watched Dante share the final moment with his mother, without him there,  something you were willing to bet he would have given anything to feel right at that moment, _“It’s not fair that he got to be with her and I...I…”_

_He ran away. He ran away and suffered through this tragedy alone while Dante got to feel his mother’s love one last time._

“If I don’t return, you must run. By yourself, alone,” Eva continued in a low, hushed voice, staring at her son with distraught eyes and leaning away from him, “You must change your name--forget about your past and start a new life as someone else…!”

With that, Eva started closing the double doors, Dante’s teary blue eyes the last thing both you and she saw before he disappeared entirely.

_“A new beginning…!”_

With that, Eva turned and started to run, not looking back as she dead sprinted for the double doors leading into the home. She ran past you and Vergil, tears in her eyes and feet pounding on the marble floor, her expression somewhere between agony and determination as she went to open the doors. For a moment, time seemed to slow, Vergil stepping out to try and touch her with outstretched fingers, just barely held back by you as more flames started to spread across the ceiling, walls, and rug on the foyer floor. It was no use, he wouldn’t be able to feel her, not in an illusion like this one. His fingers passed through her blonde hair, phasing right through as she dashed by and leaving him falling to his knees as she continued on obliviously, now desperate to find his younger self waiting outside their home.

 _“Vergil?! Where are you Vergil?!”_ She started to shout as she ripped open the door, the outside air causing the fire to burst more all around you all and followed by the screeching of demons. You felt your heart pound harder than it ever had, living through Vergil and Dante’s biggest moment of trauma and unable to process it. _No...no no don’t go out there--it isn’t safe!_ Tears dripped down your eyes, a cry of anguish caught in your throat and fire burning in your lungs as you watched all that you knew would happen finally come to pass.

_She is going to die. And we can do nothing._

Vergil stared on in horror as his mother screamed, illuminated by fire in the doorway as demons descended upon her, form vanishing under their grotesque, writhing bodies. The scream cut off by their snarls and laughs, dragging her body outside so they could finish the job with the other gathering monsters.

Vergil moved in an instant, unsheathing the Yamato in a desperate attempt to fight off the creatures killing his mother, a shout in his throat echoing through the foyer. He would have done it too--would have leapt through a wall of fire to try and save her. The flames licked the rug, surging when when of the demons spat some soft of liquid behind him--intending to raze the mansion on ash. Vergil would not be stopped.

_But the Outsider wanted him to feel it again...that uselessness, that despair. It was of no use._

You grabbed Vergil with your tendrils, holding him back and wrapping your arms around his waist and sending you both slamming to the floor. Coughs wracked your lungs, aching and throbbing with agony at all the smoke inhalation. But you couldn’t care less, Vergil becoming your main focus over the danger. The fire had already scorched the skin of his sword wielding arm, the man oblivious to the pain as he struggled in your grasp, trying to reach his mother as the demons took her life. What could you do? _What could you do?_ He was yelling over and over again, screaming for his mother and reaching as far as his fingers could.

 _“Stop_ …!” You begged, trying to pin him with the tendrils and feeling the tears drip down your own cheeks, _“It won’t help…! This isn’t real Vergil…!”_

Your words would not reach him. His eyes were glassy, not registering you at all as he was forced to watch his mother die with new eyes. In that moment he wasn’t the proud, sword-wielding bastard you had seen in the Qliphoth tree. Vergil was thrust back into the mindset he had as a child, one who just wanted to save his mother and be with family who loved him equally. And now the realization was there, the one that spoke the truth of that day-- _his mother had not abandoned him, she had tried desperately to save him just as she had Dante_. But there was no chance of her making it out of the mansion, not with so many demons surrounding it.

And that was enough to break him. But you couldn’t let that happen. You had to tie him into reality, had to stop this madness before he lost this test and was forced to succumb to whatever the God wanted of him.

So you grit your teeth, wrapping your fingers around his eyes so he couldn’t see the horrific view anymore. Tendrils snapped out from your form all around, creating a cage around you and the struggling Sparda and weaving between each other, blocking the fire and heat like a dome of perfection. Vergil was hyperventilating, lungs heaving and gasping as his body tried to fling you off, but there would be no stopping you.

Subduing him like this was cruel, but there was no choice.

 _“Vergil,_ ” You put your lips by his ear, breathing heavily and shuddering with the force of trying to keep the illusion back, “Enough-- _Enough! This is an illusion, a means to break you…! Please stop…!”_

You felt him start to still, eyes blinked underneath your fingers and the sword clattering from his grasp. A strangled sound of absolute agony left him, that hand flying to his mouth as he started to retch, physically sick at the sight he was made to witness. He vomited, coughing and choking as you desperately tried to hold back his hair, one hand on his forehead and the other bracing your form above him.

_This ended now. Anymore trials like this and it could break him as much as your own world broke you._

“ _Enough!_ ” You shouted, eyes turning black as you snapped more tendrils out around you, still able to hear the crackling flames, _“End this…! He’s seen what you wanted him to now fucking end it Outsider…!”_

_No more._

_No more suffering._

_No more games._

As soon as you spoke, the cold of the Void swept over the room, taking with it the smoke and ash and making you gasp in shock. You clung to Vergil’s frame, closing your eyes at the sound of rushing crystal, whipping around both of you and taking the illusion of the mansion with it. No more demons, no more fire, no more heat. Only the bitter chill and the dull howl of the Void, tendrils retreating back and leaving you both laying on a piece of debris as you had before. You opened your eyes, pants still leaving your lips and eyes still black as you gazed around, seeing the familiar hollow glow and endless blackness of your former home.

And even more shocking, the Outsider stood nearby, watching you both with flat black eyes.

You met his gaze, shock and anger traveling through you as Vergil continued coughing, wheezing gasps leaving his lungs as he sat on his hands and knees. His eyes were wide, hair messed up and draping over his forehead as he struggled to drag himself out of the panic attack gripping him. He looked devastated, damaged, broken. All the things you knew too well, all the emotions you had suffered through for so many years. And that broke you inside, seeing him in the throes of pain and misery that had no way out, no reasoning, no meaning. Despite all the terrible things he had done, despite all the death and carnage...No child deserved that, no child deserved to see their mother die and live alone. No one deserved to be forced back into childhood trauma and pain.

What fucking purpose did it serve? What lesson did this teach? That so called trial had given him the truth of what had happened to his family, but at the price of being so damaging Vergil couldn’t drag himself off the floor. And that wasn’t okay, _it would never be okay._ To make matters worse, the Void whispers seemed to be enjoying Vergil’s pain, brushing past your ears in low purrs and groans.

_He hasn’t broken completely, I’d say he passed._

_Indeed indeed._

_There is still more to see._


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh babey. I cannot wait to see the comments on this bad boy. Enjoy kids, I've been building to this since chapter five

_Chapter 37_

The Outsider smiled softly once the area around you settled, his dark eyes meeting yours with an emotion you did not recognize.

He looked so calm, so pleased with how things were going. Meanwhile you were aghast, heart thrumming away like a caged bird after all that you had seen and experienced. The cold was so very jarring as it followed the scorching heat of flames, like being doused in ice water and sending chills down your spine and arms. What the hell had any of that accomplished, other than putting Vergil through a harsh punishment? Even you, who hadn’t known Eva personally had been shaken by what your eyes were made to witness. No one should be forced to watch a mother and her children suffer through that, especially not one of the very children who went through the tragedy and came out the other side damaged.

Your mind was a whirlwind of questions, mostly pertaining to what happened to Vergil when he left that house. Demons had been crawling all around the surrounding town and homes, attacking and destroying everything in sight. Young Vergil, all alone on a playground, still upset about his mother and brother’s actions...what terrible things must have happened to him? Attacked by demons, hurt by them, forced to suffer through it all without the love of his mother and knowing that she was killed. No wonder he was such a surly, bitter man--he was starting to make more sense to you, bit by bit. God, what would Eva have thought if she knew what would become of Vergil? How many deaths that he would cause, the man he would grow to be.

And worse...you couldn’t stop thinking about the what-ifs of the situation. What would have happened had Vergil not ran from the house, if he had stayed behind with his brother and mother when the attack started? He would have been forced into that closet too, maybe his mother would have stayed with them and survived. But...things were rarely so cut and dry. The fact that the closet Dante was in didn’t burn was a miracle, coupled with the demons not finding him despite being explicitly sent by Mundus to kill Sparda’s kin. Maybe they assumed since they found Vergil, that both sons had been taken care of? Or maybe they assumed Dante would burn with the mansion. Whatever the reason...maybe the circumstances of the situation would have changed if all of them had tried to hide.

Maybe the demons would have found that closet. Maybe all three would have been lost.

Regardless, the tragedy of it all was a lingering wound on you now, one that you doubted would be soothed. And that pain was starting to translate into rage, seeing Vergil wheezing on the floor, one sleeve scorched by the fire’s illusion and hair unkempt and messy. You knew the kind of pain he was feeling, one so heavy it could make people drown in it. There was a tolerance for these kind of things that existed inside your body, made strong and firm by years and years of gritting your teeth through suffering and terrible memories. You could still stand after seeing that, you could still breath despite how much it hurt. Vergil was not like you, years of coping mechanisms and cold-heartedness made that pain all the more heavy to bear. 

_This solved nothing. All it did was hurt the man for his sins and break him down further and further._

You stood up from the floor, eyes still black as you approached the Outsider with rage boiling in your veins. He was steadfast, staring you down with the calmest expression you had seen and poise in his posture.

 _“Vergil Sparda has passed his first trial_ ,” He said once you paused before him, your eyes steely and lungs still stinging from the smoke. The Outsider tilted his head, a smile playing on the edge of his lips as he regarded you with something close to amusement, _“Is there something you wish to say to me, Y/N? You seem distressed.”_

You didn’t hesitate, especially when he was using a tone like that. Your hand whipped out, cracking him across the cheek with as much force as you could muster and ringing the sound out through the Void. Had you ever showed such defiance to the Outsider before, physically striking him in retaliation for his actions? Never. _Never._ But...Respecting a God who had helped you was one thing, sitting by and letting him be cruel and sadistic was another. Your fear and caring you felt for this creature, one who was seemingly a father figure to you, was like a weight on your chest battling with the anger and fury at his actions. But some things could not be excused, and you had been a slave to ignorance and the wills of this God for far too long. _Powers be damned, blessings be damned_. After what happened in the Qliphoth tree, this had been a long time coming.

_You hurt me, you betrayed me. And now you’re trying to break him._

_“Are you satisfied?!_ ” You hissed, grabbing the God by his collar while he put up literally no fight. In fact, he hadn’t even flinched when you hit him, merely blinking slowly and tilting his head back to look at your furious eyes. Somehow his lack of reaction made you even more angry, “What the hell are you thinking, forcing this upon him like it will somehow solve anything! _It solves nothing!”_

The Outsider’s gaze did not waver, eyes steady as they stared at the black gaze you inherited from him. What had become of him, this creature that you once looked up to and would willingly say you adored? He was the closest thing you had to a parent and he just... _He was crushing everything._  

 _“This man has hurt you, has he not?”_ The black-eyed God replied, narrowing his stare and tipping his head to the side, _“Yet you still wish to save him, to preserve the part of him that you think still exists.”_

You bit the inside of your cheek so hard it drew blood, the taste coppery in your mouth. Just because he was right didn’t mean a damn thing.

Your fingers still gripped his jacket, feeling his cold breath as you leaned closer and said in a biting tone, “And what does that matter? Why are you doing this?!” All the pain of his betrayal was spilling forth, mind reliving the moment of V’s absorption and the feeling of the Outsider’s firm grip on your neck, “You wouldn’t even let me try…! You wouldn’t even let me attempt to stop him, to find another way…! All of this, forcing me down, torturing Vergil with his past-- _just tell me why…!”_

_Please. I don’t want to hate you, I don’t want this doubt._

You could remember the beginning years of the Void, of his blessing. The first years of learning your powers, of pulling your shattered mind back together. The Outsider had been calm and patient, kind to you and understanding of the trauma that came with your existence. It was he who had done all that he could to rebuild you, taking away the burden of memories and shaping you into a fighter, one who could withstand the Void’s power and not break under its weight. Yet through all of that had been a distance, a wall you had always secretly hoped would be breached. The Outsider never embraced or touched you, never gave the physical affection that a parent would. 

It was as if he had never knew how, just as puzzled by you and what your relationship was as you were. There was a sense of naivety, an impassiveness covering up a lack of understanding and years and years of passing human contact. All you had wanted was to regain what was lost, what you had never properly tasted--the chance at having loving parents, ones who were proud of you and not afraid to say it. To be strong, to love and be loved equally with no trauma of pain holding it back anymore. Human existence had robbed you of that, taking it all away and leaving you wanting, hungering for the fruits of happiness you were only allowed to briefly sample.

It was why you couldn’t hate Vergil, still wheezing and rasping on the ground, trying to gather his emotions together. He had been hurt time and time again, broken down without rhyme or reason and searching desperately for a means to cope, to feel strong. Had you been offered it, had a darker power sought you out...would you have hurt people as well at a chance of happiness, drowning in that desperation and letting it choke you? The son of Sparda had done terrible things, been selfish and cold and greedy. Things that could not be excused by his trauma, but...you understood it. _You did._ When one had their face constantly pushed into the dirt, they tended to do all they could to breathe. 

You had done that too. Had taken the first hand that pulled you out of the dirt. 

The Outsider let out a slow breath, the icy chill of it making you shudder lightly as you wheezed out your own angry, panting breaths. That calm expression shifted a bit, and if you weren’t mistaken....was that sadness in those endless, dark depths? The Outsider shocked you then, lifting his hands from his sides and doing the one thing you had never felt from him--he cupped your freezing cheeks with his own icy fingers, making you gasp and muscles tense almost painfully. The tender action shocked you to your core for a moment, anger trapped between the surprise and confusion with nowhere else to go. 

_But...why? Why is he doing this?_

_I don’t understand._

_“You are the closest thing to a child I have ever been allowed,”_ The Outsider replied in a low tone, sounding  a bit grave and serious as he continued on like you weren’t staring at with an expression so lost, “ _Born of my power, my essence. All that I do, I do to make you stronger, even if those actions make you hate me.”_

_What?_

You blinked in shock, eyes wide and staring at him with a tortured expression on your face. This was too much, _this was too muc_ h. All those months of thinking, waiting, not understanding...this didn’t help, it only served to increase the turmoil coiling inside and breaking down the walls of hatred you had formed to protect yourself from the Outsider’s betrayal. This validation, the knowledge of him seeing you as his kin...it only amplified the pain, leaving you wondering and pleading internally, not able to understand why he hurt you so much despite claiming you were his only child.

_Why now, when it will only sting the most?_

_I just want to be happy._

_I wanted you to be a part of that happiness too._

 “P...please...Outsider.. _.Father_...” Tears started forming in your eyes, voice hoarse and conflicted as you whispered, “I don’t want this…! _I don’t want anyone else to be hurt…!”_

_Not you. Not Vergil. Not anyone._

Using such a name for the God made his pause, eyes finally closing and breaking the stare he held between you both. He looked a lot closer to a human when he wasn’t gazing with those deep, empty eyes. Softer. Up close it was apparent just how unbelievably tired the Outsider looked, dark circles lining his lids and skin so pale in complexion. 

 _“There is still so much you do not know,”_ He finally replied after some pause, opening those exhausted eyes of his to meet your teary gaze, _“Things that cannot be forgiven. Even if it means earning your malice, there are things that must be witnessed.”_

That was not the answer you wanted to hear.

You gasped, stumbling when the Outsider removed his hands and took several steps back with his expression switching back to the calm, unfazed look from before. As he did so, black crystal started swirling around the space, morphing the surroundings like they did before, but...only partially this time. _No no no_ \-- _No more trials, no more punishments…!_ You summoned your tendrils, wrapping them around Vergil to help him sit up, shielding him from the view in front of you. The dark crystal formed a wall behind the Outsider, like a screen that stretched all the way into the Void’s non-existent sky. On that screen formed an image, like the two worlds had been spliced over each other and now overlapped. 

Your eyes widened, taking in the view of what could only equate to...Hell.

_This was Hell._

It was dark, a vision of red and blood in a cavern that you knew could never see sunlight. Unlike the previous illusion, you were not immersed in it, not standing in it, but...seeing what was going on was bad enough. You felt your chest clench, staring beyond the Outsider at a man suspended by fleshy tendrils from all directions, dripping blood into a pool below. He looked like hell, practically ripped apart and completely limp. You knew that white hair, even with his back to you it was very clear who you were seeing. 

Vergil.

The man behind you was panting, making you turn to see him sitting up with a glassy look in his eyes. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, gaze still burning with tears and expression conflicted. No more trauma, he shouldn’t be seeing this--but you doubted he would even if you weren’t there. He wasn’t seeing anything with a faraway expression like that, eyes downcast and hair draping over his face. You resisted the urge to embrace him, to cover his gaze and ears to protect him from this madness. V’s trauma was a vision in your head, breaking you down to nothing for each moment you remembered, that vulnerability so raw and real. It hurt, Vergil was in pain and you just wanted it to stop.

“Outsider…!” You whipped back around to stare at him pleadingly, stepping back and raising a hand to shield Vergil from view, “No more of this, please…! He’s had enough, we both have…!”

The Outsider clicked his tongue, shaking his head at your words and walking a slow circle around you both. Your tendrils summoned around Vergil as he went, acting as a shield despite how little you knew it would do. The God could stop your power with a flick of his fingers, but...he didn’t. Those eyes remained trained on you, watching with curiosity and something a little...disappointed. You half expected his new illusion to encompass the surroundings, enveloping you in the wet, hot air of hell and furthering the torture for the son of Sparda behind you. But that didn’t happen either.

 _“We will forgo this second trial a bit,”_ He replied to you, clear and precise. Like the training lessons he had given you all those years ago, _“If that would please you, dearest Y/N. But you wanted to know, didn’t you? About Vergil’s bloody past, about what the poet spoke to you of...his trauma caused by his time as Nelo Angelo.”_

_Not like this, not at his expense._

As you watched in shock, the image before you moved, a newcomer appearing in view before the suspended Sparta. Your gaze snapped back to the screen, fists clenching at your side and tendrils resisting the urge to shield your eyes too. _By the Void_ \--He was huge, emerging from the shadows as a behemoth tall enough to be  sky scraper. There was no mistaking this creature, with his king-like stature, curling beard and powerful presence--this was Mundus, the King of the Underworld you had heard mentioned before. 

The realization made you gasp, feeling a chill travel up your spine and your fists clench at your sides. It was a strange sensation, wanting to protect Vergil behind you while also watching the Vergil of the past suffer and struggle. _Alone_. He wore different colors then, more in hues of blue, but...they were so sullied by his own blood that it was hard to tell. 

Mundus stared at the son of Sparda with a cold expression, eyes not visible in the shadows of his face. You knew Vergil would have never fared against something of his stature, the very aura he exuded through the screen of illusion enough to make you want to turn and run. The younger Vergil’s fingers twitched, dropping the broken remains of the Yamato down into the pool where it landed, slowly beginning to sink into the blood. This is how the sword was broken, to be found by the Order of the Sword and then by Nero later. 

Things were coming together disgustingly well. Griffon had only told you the minor details of his own existence, about how Vergil took on the King alone and had fallen, Mundus manipulating his weakened form and making him into Nelo Angelo. There his three Nightmares had spawned forth, bringing with them the trauma and reminders of his failure. They never told you what Mundus had done to Vergil, how bad it was. And you were going to learn why.

Mundus parted his lips, voice emerging in a sound that dragged along your earlobes like razor blades. You flinched, hands instinctively rising to cover your ears and taking another step back. But as soon as the sound reached you both, you heard Vergil gasp, the sound choked and hard as he raised his head. His expression was one of shocked fear, of remembrance. And it shattered you into a million pieces.

_He cannot see, he can’t know this pain again._

_“Sparda...Sparda--that traitor!”_ Mundus growled, the sound loud and vibrating the air as the Outsider continued to circle you both, not looking fazed in the slightest, “ _Had he not sullied demon blood with a human womb...Perhaps he could’ve had a son with at least some grit.”_

He spoke of Eva, Vergil and Dante’s mother. Something about his dismissal of the woman made your blood boil, but you couldn’t afford to focus on that now. You snapped your gaze to the Outsider, feeling your shoulders shake as he met your gaze like it was a challenge, as if there was something to prove. 

_This helps no one._

“I wish to see no more…!” You spat at him, kneeling by Vergil and putting an arm around his waist, trying to urge him to his feet. Your voice seemed to snap the confused, panicked daze Mundus’ voice brought, icy blue eyes sharpening and lips parting in a gasp. He finally met your gaze, chest rising and falling with slow breaths and expression so very conflicted, almost... _humiliated._ He was at his weakest mentally, and he knew it. To fall to pieces in front of you, to break down into hysterics and cry for his mother...you couldn’t image how much that did to his pride.

“Y/N…” He rasped, voice raw from yelling even as you helped him slowly to his feet, “This..this is... _I cannot…”_

He didn’t have to elaborate, you understood.

The Outsider paused, tilting his head when the other Vergil spoke, the one from the illusion. It made you and his present day counterpart turn, watching as the Sparda lifted his head and rasped.

“...Done with the drivel yet?” He was so young then, so cocky and full of himself. It made you want to shake the poor half demon, the feeling doubled when he added weakly, “I can keep going.”

An obvious lie. You doubted Vergil could lift his fingers at that moment if he was asked. The one at your side stared at the memory with regret, his hands clenching into fists so tight that he was digging the nails into his palms. You gasped when blood started to trickle down, pattering onto the piece of debris you stood on like the blood trickling from his past self. He looked like he was going to be sick again, forced to watch a moment in his life that had brought much trauma and pain. And that heavy, drowning humiliation. Mind you, it was his choices that lead to this outcome, but…it didn’t make things any more tolerable. In fact, you were willing to bet it stung a lot more knowing he could have avoided all the pain had he just went with Dante, had he tried.

Like with everything, what would have happened if he swallowed his pride and decided to live his life with his brother? The agony of that uncertainty was drowning him, and that was a truth you knew he didn’t need to face anymore.

_No more of this. No more._

_“Outsider…!_ ” You summoned more tendrils, cracking them out along the ground and stopping the God’s infuriating pacing, “End this, please…! What more must he endure before you are satisfied, what truth does this bring other than pain?” 

_But that’s what this is about, isn’t it? Bringing pain._

You took one of Vergil’s hands, stepping closer to him and feeling his fingers grip yours like they were a lifeline, “He knows what happens here, and so do I…! If you had any ounce of caring for me, _you would stop this nonsense where it starts…!”_

You could feel Vergil’s gaze leave you, staring at the image of Mundus pulling him up into his grasp, hand big enough to hold his whole body. His fingers twitched, Vergil stepping back and pulling you close enough to put your back flush against his side. He was gritting his teeth again, trying to hold onto the anger above the pain and maintain his composure. Those walls wanted to rebuild themselves so fast, but Vergil seemed so exhausted, so tired. Each breath was slow and measured, brow dotted with sweat and hand gripping yours tight enough that you were afraid he would break bone. 

The Outsider paused at your side, keeping his eyes on Mundus and raising a hand to freeze the image. You could almost breathe a sigh of relief, seeing the King’s mouth open and say nothing as the illusion waited for the God to continue it.

There was an air of aggravation now, the Outsider turning toward you and letting out a low hum as he asked, “ _Do you truly wish for me to end this trial?”_ Those black eyes lingered on Vergil, narrowing slightly in annoyance as he added, _“I will forfeit this as you ask, child of mine. But...the final trial I will not. There is truth to find there, since you claim truth should be the the only trial he faces.”_

The God almost sounded...sullen, like your desire to protect Vergil disappointed him. There was something hidden in those black eyes, a sorrow you did not understand. _Regret._ What more did he possibly have to see, what other truths? You hesitated at the bite in his tone, feeling like a child who had been reprimanded by their father despite all efforts not to. But...this was not something you could tolerate any longer, sitting idly by and letting the God have his merry way. Someone needed to protect Vergil, even if he didn’t want you to. Not that he was going to say anything now, staring down the Outsider with such a fierce hatred that you were shocked the God didn’t catch fire from the heat.

No, all he offered in response with a slow smile, seeming utterly pleased by seeing the Son of Sparda so wrecked. Vergil was growing more and more furious, crackling with an air of anger that made the cold of the Void pale under its fire. You knew damn well he didn’t want to take part in these trials to begin with, especially not with no other choices and no way out. Now, seeing exactly what it had in store for him...he must want the Outsider dead, hating feeling weak in any capacity and being forced back against the wall. You saw his fingers twitch, free hand grasping the hilt of his Yamato like he wanted to attack the Deity before you. But trying was a waste of time.

And he knew it.

“I care not for your trials…!” Vergil growled, tone gravelly and raw as he narrowed his gaze on the smug God, “If you wish to punish me, then leave her out of it…!”

That made you jolt, indignation rising along with the worry in your throat as you protested, “Vergil--!”

“Enough,” He snapped in reply, cutting you off and meeting your pleading gaze with an exhausted one of his own, “This is what V wants, would you really deny him that which he desires?”

_Of course he would say that, of course he would bring V into it._

_And for the record, hell yeah you would,_ especially if it meant him sacrificing himself. You learned after those four months that doing so was never the right way to solve anything, not when there were people who cared about you. And everything be damned, you knew there were people who cared about Vergil. You, Dante, even Nero...you owed it to your friend to make sure he got to know his Father, that he would return home to make amends. Becoming one with the Void was a fate worse than death, losing your consciousness to the thousands of others and becoming a part of the chorus, lost to never be found again. You had been a strange case, you had gotten lucky--By circumstances beyond your control, you had not been consumed and were promptly found by the black-eyed God.

Vergil did not have that kind of luck.

“I’m done with losing people,” You replied to Vergil in a harsh tone, gripping the collar of his jacket and forcing him down to stare at you on your level, “You don’t get to make that choice…! It was my interference that brought us here, my mistakes…!”

_Because of that, you refused to run. You would see this through to the end._

Vergil scowled at that, desperation in his eyes as he parted his lips to reply. But the Outsider was faster. You heard the God sigh, making you both turn again to look at him as he waved his hand at the image of Mundus and the younger Vergil, making it shatter into crystal that swirled around you all.

 _“Is this what you want, Y/N?”_ He looked straight at you, a thousand warnings in his eyes as the wind whipped his black hair slightly with the force, _“To see this final trial by his side, to observe this truth no matter how much pain it will bring?”_

You had stayed by his side through the death of Eva, through the fire and torment of his burning family home. No matter what came next, you could handle it for his sake. The deaths of those in the Qliphoth, seeing Dante’s struggles, maybe Nero’s? You could handle that, you could be the pillar of strength he needed to get you both out of there alive. Whatever the truth would bring, you weren’t going to sit and be ignorant anymore. Consequences be damned.

So you nodded, squeezing Vergil’s fingers and ignoring his sharp, desperate gaze as you replied, “I will not be swayed. After all, you’ve been showing me new pains for my entire life...haven’t you?”

_Every ache, every agony...he made sure I went through them._

_I just want to know why._

The Outsider tilted his head to the side at your words, as if he could sense the very context held beneath them. Silence passed between you both, punctuated by the Void’s howling and the whipping wind. You didn’t know what was going through his head, but you hoped it was something close to mercy, closer to what you thought the Deity was upon learning from him, from doing his bidding. There was a pleading look in your eyes, silently begging him to understand and listen. You didn’t want this anymore, didn’t want this conflict or hatred. _You didn’t want to hate him anymore_. Getting to live your life a second time was a blessing, getting to try again was a gift. And being able to do it all with the power of the Void and the Outsider guiding you was more than anyone could ask for.

But...there was something in the Outsider’s expression that made you nervous. A reluctance, one that was enhanced when he raised his fingers, sending the cloud of dark crystal swirling about you both like a cloud.

_“Then so be it. But let it be known that I tried to warn you.”_

You flinched, closing your eyes and gripping Vergil’s coat tightly between your fingers as it weaved around you loudly, coldly. Changing the landscape again, you knew that much. It was hard to get your sense of direction, like being turned upside down in mid air and trying to regain balance. You felt the cold start turning into warmth, the shimmering rays of the sun painting on your skin and making you gasp. Inhaling brought the taste of salt water on the air, wind sending your hair adrift and feeling nice despite it being utterly fake. _Another illusion._

In a matter of seconds, the Void’s howling dissipated, leaving behind the quiet sound of footsteps, of voices low and murmuring as they brushed past your ear. It took a few moments for you to catch your breath, to get your barrings after being thrust into a new space so quickly. Your brain was scrambling, confused and trying to tell you that the Void was now gone, but you knew better by now, didn’t you?

_You knew this place too, that was a fact._

You opened your eyes, feeling shock settle over you as the surrounding registered within. This was Fortuna, you would recognize it anywhere. The architecture, the towers reaching toward the sky and that ocean breeze you had experienced for months of peace. But...it was different now, not the crystal woven buildings of your home with bustling in the streets of new and old technologies alike. _No, this was far more subdued._ You stepped closer to Vergil, anxiety settling in a hollow pit of your stomach as you watched people walk by with their heads down,  wearing cloaks and hoods and all keeping to themselves. It was so quiet, a far cry from the laughter and talking of the city square now, Fortuna opening its doors to the outside world and finding peace and culture they enjoyed.

And even more shocking was the behemoth looming over the city in the distance. Made of stone, towering high into the sky and staring eerily into the distance. 

Nero had told you the story of how that statue fell, a homage to the demon Lord Sparda that was built by the Order of the Sword. But it was still here, the damage caused by all the events Nero was involved in no longer there. This was definitely the past--so maybe your assumption was correct? Maybe you were seeing what happened to Nero growing up, the truth of living without his parents? But...why weren’t you in front of the orphanage, instead in the town square several streets away. _What was the truth to find here?_

You looked up at Vergil, finding him frowning and staring around with wariness in those sharp eyes.

“We’re in Fortuna,” He stated the obvious, tone low and still rasping from before, “I...remember coming here to investigate the Order of the Sword.”

You blinked, stepping back from him and looking out at the people oblivious to your existence. One hand reaching out phased right through them, proving this illusion to be just like the other. It felt real, but you could not interfere with those who existed in it. 

But...that wasn’t important right now. A realization was forming in the back of your head, one that made you take pause and turn to look back at Vergil.

“H...how many times did you come to Fortuna?” This was where he met Nero’s mother, wasn’t it? Had to be, considering the fact that Nero was born and raised in Fortuna his whole life. Getting in and out of the city at a time like this was difficult, if not impossible considering the grip held on it by the religious group. 

Vergil frowned, putting a hand to his head and wincing slightly, as if he was in pain.

“...Once,” He finally replied, almost reluctantly, “The memory is vague, most likely due to my run in with Mundus afterwards. I do remember finding a book telling me the information I needed, then leaving to form the tower as a means to gain my father’s power, but…”

_He didn’t remember Nero’s mother._

As soon as the thought formed, you froze, seeing a familiar shape walking through the crowd nearby with his head down like the others. The man stood out a bit, tall and broad shouldered with the familiar handle of the Yamato peaking through his cloak. You could recognize Vergil’s air of confidence anywhere, even when his younger self was seemingly trying not to be noticed. Blending into the crowd as best he could, people of Fortuna clearing a path out of his way and not looking at his face at all. His older version at your side noticed too, standing at attention as he watched himself walk past, face younger but still wearing that cold, cocky look he always had. It felt so strange, seeing a closer version to the Vergil you knew, but so much softer and more naive looking. Vergil at his peak of stupidity, it would seem.

But you knew now, the truth you were realizing here. The fact that Vergil didn’t seem to remember anything about Fortuna, about Nero’s mother told you everything you needed to know. What had happened to this woman, one who somehow managed to gain Vergil’s attention enough to form a child? Imagining the son of Sparda engaging in a quick fling seemed heavily unlikely, especially given the lack of interest he seemed to have in anything but power. Vergil clearly had not stayed behind for her, and Nero didn’t know who she was either. It didn’t bode well, and you were willing to bet her story would be a painful one. Of course the Outsider would want him to see what happened to this woman, the mother of his child, and make him feel terrible about that too.

_He was doing things out of order--why this last? Wouldn’t it make more sense to show Mundus last, considering that happened after Vergil fornicated in Fortuna?_

“Nero’s mother…” You murmured, making Vergil tilt his eyes back to you, “Is there anything you remember about her at all? She must have been special, especially considering the fact that she somehow caught your eye.”

 Vergil seemed so focused, so driven. Romance or lust was so low on his spectrum.

The man in question furrowed his brow, letting out a low growl from his chest and rubbing his temple with hard fingers, “Why do I feel insulted by your tone?” He asked flatly, making you raise a brow at him, “I remember very little. She wore a red dress--does that help at all?”

_A woman in red...that kind of narrowed it down, right?_

You sighed, running a hand through your hair and feeling absolutely exhausted by the whole situation, “This is what the Outsider wants you to see so pay attention--didn’t you wonder at all what happened to this woman considering the fact that you barely remember her?” You met Vergil’s eyes, a serious expression on your face as you continued, “Nero searched Fortuna for her, but she was nowhere to be found. You are meant to see her fate.”

And like it or not, you would both be witnessing it.

Vergil looked away, a muscle twitching in his jaw and an uneasy air settling around his form. You knew this might be less damaging than watching his own mother die, especially if he had no attachment to the female. But...this could bring closure to Nero too, and that was important. Guilt could be an effective teaching tool, one that Vergil needed to become more familiar with after spending his entire life ignoring such things. Her fate was as important as his own, and he owed it to Nero and himself to at least try and see what happened to the poor girl he left behind.

Almost on cue, you saw something out of the corner of your eye--a flicker of color. _Right on time._ It made your head turn, a breath catching in your throat as you saw a hint of red walking from the direction illusion-Vergil was heading in. You gripped the real one’s hand, making him follow your gaze before you let go and started heading toward the woman in question. This had to be her, there was no doubt about that--head down with a white hood, dress a scarlet red and walking slowly past Vergil on the quiet street with a gentle stride. Her face was obscured, which was unfortunate. But you assumed you’d see it soon enough. 

You walked to her side, phasing through the people of the crowd and pausing once she did in the middle of the cobblestone street. Vergil didn’t look at her, didn’t even seem to notice her--but it was clear she noticed him. You need to see this, right? You weren’t bothered by knowing Vergil had slept with another woman, especially considering he and V had no knowledge of you then. But...Something felt...off? 

_Something isn’t right._

Your foresight started prickling in your chest, growing in heat and intensity and making anxiety boil through your veins. What the hell was all that about, there was no danger here, correct? If demons showed up in an illusion, would you sense them too? But….you felt nothing in the house when it was attacked, no indication that danger was coming. Your Foresight had been completely quiet then, not seeming to notice the manifested danger or the fire threatening to burn you. So why was it coming to life now, warning you of something that was not seen?

You halted your steps, standing feet away from the woman in red with confusion and worry in your eyes. Vergil approached your prone form, watching her as well but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at his face. Instead focused on her, observing as she turned away from the both of you to look behind, seeming to notice Vergil and stop to look back at him with a soft smile peeking out from the hood shielding her face.

 _What was it that got her attention?_

Maybe the energy he carried, maybe the way he walked. You weren’t sure which, but you could feel her interest like a tangible force in the air. That and... _more_. You felt recognition above all else, like you had met the girl before at some point in your life, as impossible as that was. It prickled at the back of your mind, sending off warning bells and making you incredibly uneasy.

The only women you met in your travels of this world were Nico, Trish, Lady, and Kyrie--and that was excluding the women of Fortuna you grew to recognize.  And there was no way this girl was any of them based on her body type alone, and the fact that two of those girls would be babies at the time. Not like the women working the shops, not anyone you had helped. In fact, this was years ago was it not? This woman would be in her forties by the time you knew her. And she carried no aura similar to the older women.

But...something felt off, _something felt wrong._ The foresight was growing louder and louder as you stepped away from Vergil, frowning as you tried to move close enough to observe her face.

_Don’t._

_Don’t look._

_Hide your eyes away, child of the Void._

The whispers turned to screaming in your ears, making your steps falter and eyes blink in confusion. What...was happening? _What was going on?_ You were feeling rooted to the spot, standing next to the woman with your heartbeat increasing on every breath. Vergil wasn’t immune to your fixation, to the intensity of your gaze. He asked you if you were alright, but you barely heard it, ears starting to sound like they were underwater, drowned by your own pulse.  _Look away look away_ , the Foresight chanted, growing louder and louder as everything around you seemed to slow, to dim, _You can’t, you shouldn’t, you mustn’t_. This was not something you were supposed to see, but it was far too late now, wasn’t it?

The girl’s hands raised from her sides, gripping the edges of her hood and gently peeling it back, revealing her face to your eyes.

_Wh--_

_What?_

_Th...that’s not…_

_This isn’t--_

_That’s not possible._

_There must be a mistake--_

Your eyes were wide and unblinking, staring at the face before you and unable to comprehend what your head was seeing. What...what was going on? You saw her eyes, the same color as yours. Her hair, the same color as yours. Her face...that...that was your face, was it not? _Those were your lips, your nose, your cheeks, your everything._ That was your smile on her lips, gentle and full of interest as she watched Vergil walk away. Your fingers lifted on her hand, touching your-- her cheek like she was in awe. Your breath stopped entirely in your lungs, heart pounding so hard in your chest that the roar of blood in your ears was deafening. _Impossible impossible impossible--this was not possible._ Your fingers started shaking, the Foresight in your body screaming in agony as you stared into her face, like a mirror, seeing yourself and unable to comprehend any of it.

_She is--We are--I am--_

_I can’t--I can’t I can’t I can’t._

_This cannot be real._

Your brain snapped like a weak twig, mouth opening but no sound coming out as your power and soul screamed out in absolute agony. Anger, despair, horror, pain, fear, incomprehension--It was like a tidal wave shattering the glass holding you together and flooding all in its path. You felt yourself crumble, mind shutting down and all the powers enveloping you in a sea of blackness that felt all too familiar to your body. And for once...you welcomed it, that feeling of nothing. Everything went howling into the Void in an instant--no more thoughts, no more sight, no more feeling. You fell to your knees and entirely shattered apart, the image before your eyes snapping away into the darkness like it had never been there at all. 

You fell to pieces, mind shutting down before it could destroy itself even more. Like razors, the weight of the grief and absolute horror was ripping apart any sense of sanity you could have, protecting your soul from cracking into the state it had been all those years ago in the Void. _Impossible. Impossible. Impossible. This cannot be. This cannot. Be. She is me and I am--_

You lost it. _You lost it._  

Your mind writhed and thrashed, body going limp on the ground as the blackness consumed all the chaos and sent you into a state of absolute darkness. And in that split second of lucidity that remained before it was all taken, you heard the Outsider’s voice in your head.

_Forgive me, my child. There are some things that even you were not meant to see._


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have an early chapter--Just a warning. Depictions of blood and death, its a lot to take in. Please proceed with caution.

_Chapter 38_

_(Vergil POV)_

When the woman in red lowered her hood, Vergil felt his heart stutter and pause for a brief, horrifying moment of clarity.

To see you both standing there and mirroring each other’s faces, you frozen with wide eyes and a face growing paler and paler...Vergil felt his own thoughts come to a screeching halt. There was no way, _that is impossible_ \--There is no way that the woman he fornicated with all those years ago, _Nero’s god damn mother,_ was you. This had to be a trick, right? A cruel joke played by the Outsider, a means to unnerve and unsettle him so he would lose this final trial. There was no other explanation, there was no other way. 

But...deep down, he knew that he was wrong, that the denial his brain was trying to put forth was only a means to protect him from the truth. Because it was growing with each passing breath, that familiarity, that recognition. Like fog lifting from a town long plunged in thick mist, static clearing from an old television set. _He knew you_ \--he always had, even when he was V his mind subconsciously recognized your face.

No. _No._

V was shaking inside of Vergil’s head, filling with that same denial and shock--unable to comprehend what they both were witnessing. There was no denying this version of you from the past was not like the one he had just went through those trials with--there was an air about her that felt new, naive, young. _Hesitant._ Staring at the younger Vergil with gentle eyes and a pause in her steps. Fresh as a daisy, a bright force that had seemingly entered his life on determination and kindness alone and...and...why was it so hard to remember? Why had he forgotten in the first place? It didn’t make sense, his brain was scrambling to find understanding when there was none, to find footing on ground that was tilting and swaying underneath him. The Outsider had been right--the reality of this was far more jarring than even he could be prepared for, bringing forth so many emotions he felt ready to go screaming into the Void just at that moment.

And your reaction was far worse.

Vergil was frozen, unable to move and help when you started trembling like an earthquake, mouth opening in a silent scream and eyes rolling back in your head in a swirl of inky blackness. Your body bowed back like you had snapped, knees crumpling in your free fall as you finally broke eye contact with the oblivious version of you. So many things flashed across your expression before you broke--shock, confusion, fear, horror...so much horror. Vergil felt too numb, too shocked himself to even try to move and catch you, eyes tilting slowly to the side and breaths wheezing out of his lungs as he watched you collapse in slow motion. He half expected you to hit the ground in a crumpled heap, mind unable to comprehend what it had seen and reacting in kind, but...as with most things, he was wrong.

The Outsider appeared as soon as you fell, catching your limp body with steadfast arms and kneeling down with you cradled against his chest. Vergil stared at him with wide eyes, the image of Fortuna pausing like a film the black-eyed bastard was playing for you both. That look on the God’s face was...shocking, to say the least, more emotion than Vergil had seen from him. He stared at you with pain, deep regret as he put a hand over your eyes and made your tremors subside in an instant. You went completely limp, eyes closed and pallor like a corpse in his arms. There was no doubt there in those black eyes of his, no shock or disbelief--he knew this would happen, didn’t he? All along, the black-eyed bastard was afraid of this outcome, trying to warn you when the time had come but unable to deny your wills and wants. 

And like fools, neither of you had listened.

Vergil was shaking as well, breath rasping out like razors in his lungs as he looked between you and her with horrified eyes, still unable to understand just how this all had happened in the first place, how it was possible. _How? And why? Why was all this happening, why had the Outsider allowed all of this in the first place if he was an all-seeing God?_ It made no sense, the pieces of a puzzle laid out with nothing holding them together. Jagged, aching to be  combined and willing to slice at a few fingers along the way--like trying to reassemble a broken mirror.

The dark-gazed man seemed to sense what Vergil was thinking, half tilting his eyes in the Sparda’s direction and a slow breath leaving those cold-looking lips. Vergil thought he saw a flicker of hatred in his eyes, but it was hard to tell when staring into something that looked like the abyss.

 _“...I had feared she would break again,”_ The Outsider finally whispered, settling back on his knees and stroking a gentle hand through your hair. Like you were a child, one who had just been plunged into a nightmare beyond your comprehension, _“She has grown so strong in these passing years, I had hoped...that maybe my efforts had erased any chance of this ever happening like before. But alas...where she is concerned, I can never truly see the specifics.”_

_Again? Like before?_

Vergil felt like his throat was sealed shut, no words able to come out to even begin scraping the surface of what he was feeling. The numb feeling was spreading, his hands like ice and eyes feeling like they were on fire. 

The Outsider didn’t seem to mind his silence. Merely staring at you, those black eyes dark and unreadable as he held your now-unconscious face and gently stroked your cheek, _“I should have known better. I could see all and everything, but I had never had anything close to her before--she is too similar to what I am, a blindspot in my vision that I couldn’t predict.”_

He slowly rose to his feet, holding you with ease and staring now at the other version of you, the younger one from the past. Wearing a red dress, looking so soft and unsure of yourself and frozen like a statue, waiting to be brought to life again. Vergil felt like his legs had turned to lead, hearing the God speak but still not understanding what he meant, what was implied. A blindspot? He was an omniscient being, but did his sight get muddled when it came to those in direct relation to him? A weakness, one that couldn’t be foreseen considering a creature like didn’t seem to take anyone close that often.

_But...did that really matter anymore?_

The Outsider raised you up in his arms, a portal opening above his head back to the cold howling of the Void. _A break in the illusion._ Vergil’s first instinct was to run, to grab you and bolt from all of this in an attempt to save you both from the absolute agony this trial was to bring, but...His legs wouldn’t move. It was too much, he was weighed down by the reality and there would be no running this time. 

He was forced to watch in mute horror as black, crystalline hands came down from the portal, gently wrapping around your body and lifting you up and out of sight. They held you like glass, ready to shatter apart at the slightest rough movement. The portal closed once you were gone, leaving Vergil achingly alone and panicking inside, dread filling every ounce of his being and making bile threaten its way into his throat.

 _No--No_! V whimpered in his head, tone raw and breaking in desperation and fear, _Please don’t take her away--please…!_

His first focus was you, as always. Even he was on par with Vergil, not understanding how this situation had come to pass but was fearing it as much as humanly possible. For once...he didn’t want to know either, connecting the dots much faster than the silver haired male. He couldn’t say it, _he couldn’t think it--He couldn’t say that you were Nero’s mother, not yet._ There was still too much missing, too much uncertainty.

Because if he admitted it...he would have to admit that something terrible must have happened to you.

 _“Still in denial, I see,_ ” The Outsider observed once you were gone, like he could hear the very thought process going through Vergil’s battered mind. The god half turned, leveling a hard gaze on him that was colder than anything he had seen, as cold as the Void itself, “ _You should know better than anyone how actions have consequences, you who are driven by your own cowardice.”_

_Cowardice? No...no that’s not it, I’m not a coward. I…_

The Outsider turned back to the past you, walking a slow circle around her and staring with a much softer expression. Vergil was still left on his knees, rooted to the spot and watching as the god placed a hand on her shoulder... _your shoulder._

 _“This was her first mission,_ ” He spoke in a low murmur, one that still managed to be loud enough to reach Vergil’s ears. With a snap of his fingers, the image of Fortuna started to warp, shifting around the half-demon and your form until it was a back alley, one crawling with demons that resembled ragdolls, _“Y/N was fresh out of the Void, still...uncertain. Unstable. I had done my best to build her up from how she was upon waking, but...I had hoped finding her strength and having some time in the sun would be far better than the Void.”_

Watching and listening was all Vergil could do, eyes glued to your form as it peeked around a corner, observing as his younger self attacking the abhorrent creatures with the precise cuts of a blade. They fell, one by one, weak and flimsy in comparison to other foes he had gone up against. As the images played out, the memory would return to Vergil in that same instance, making him feel sick to his stomach as he remembered exactly what was going through his own head at the time. _Why is this woman still following me? She lacks the tact and skill to ghost someone even remotely well, how pathetic._ He had ignored it for the most part, but sensing her there watching as he fought was oddly aggravating. No...sensing _you_ there--his mind was trying to disconnect your younger self from you as a whole, but…

He jolted when several demons descended from the rooftops, meaning to ambush his past self with a flurry of blades and attacks. Easily handed, of course, but you still reacted. Vergil watched as you gasped, sending tendrils out like whips and impaling the demons before could even reach the younger Sparda. Protecting him on instinct, eyes wide and shocked at your own ability as the demons disintegrated into thin air. He had blinked, gaze snapping up then back to you now that your form had stepped out of the shadows, looking vulnerable and uncertain. So unlike the one he knew now, the one who had shot across the beach in confidence and laid waste to dozens of demons. 

He remembered being intrigued, not feeling an energy like yours before. Not a human, that was for certain, but not demon either. Vergil had always admired strength, and the mystery that came with you had made him give pause, feeling a pull to you that had never gotten under his skin before. This was his first interaction with the lady in red, the older Vergil remembered now. You had told him your own interest in the Order of the Sword, about that determination to discover their motives and stop what they were doing before it disrupted the state of things beyond repair. And he...he had his own reasons for being there, and had no intentions of allying himself with anyone for the sake of anything. But…

Something about you made him hesitate. 

“F...forgive me for being presumptuous, but...maybe working together would be in our best interest?” You sounded so hesitant, so shaky--like you were talking to a lion ready to pounce and devour you. Even then, your brain could pick up on what kind of person he was...trying to warn you of his lack of empathy.

He had merely sheathed his Yamato, turning away with a click of his tongue and not looking you in the face. How young and stupid the younger Sparda had been, how full of himself. All Vergil had focused on then was the need for action, results, and you had not been any different at the time. He wanted to learn more about your power, where it came from and if it was exploitable for his own uses. And that meant keeping you close, even if he was reluctant to do so.

“You’re useless to me with such a lack of skill,” He had replied simply, tone flat and unimpressed. The surly man started forward once more, not waiting for you to keep up as he continued on simply, “Show me something worth keeping around, and maybe I’ll consider it.”

Vergil felt sick to his stomach, V’s despair and disgust at his own actions merging in with his disjointed thoughts.

_You didn’t even ask her name. Didn’t tell her yours._

_And yet, she still followed us._

_She held that patience._

But those things had been learned in time too, slowly and precise. You were informed of his name that same day, and told him yours as well. Not that he usually called you Y/N by any stretch--always something between “woman” and “girl”. How could he have been so foolish, so blind to ignore the obvious connection between you both? It had felt so peculiar then, but...he didn’t question it.

The image froze again when you let out a slow breath, determination flashing in your gaze before you quickly jogged after the Sparda to catch up. The sight of you frozen there, face still alight with interest and that naive sense of curiosity despite his surly nature...it broke him a little more, making him unable to comprehend how his mind worked back then. Always too rude, always too focused. Eyes forward on power, never looking back to see the sun trailing after him with a smile on her face.

 _“I didn’t foresee you,”_ The Outsider’s low voice snapped him out of his thoughts, making Vergil turn to see him staring after you both in regret, _“I was...surprised when she took an interest to you, when I felt how your energies interacted. Contrary to what people like you thought at the time, the universe does make its choices, and it decided she was yours, and you were hers.”_

 _Soulmates_ \--V whispered, not sounding shocked in the slightest. Like the God’s words confirmed what he knew all along. Once upon a time he would have scoffed at such a notion, called it foolish and absurd. But...he knew better now-- _We had been so drawn to each other, even back then. You knew that too, but didn’t want to face it._

Vergil wanted to deny it, but...he remembered his fascination with you, like a moth drawn to a flame. Or...like a man who never knew love or warmth for so long, finally shown a basic shred of human affection and craving it like air or water.

The Outsider walked around him on the ground, footfalls echoing ominously in the alleyway like they were actually there in Fortuna, _“It was then that I realized my errors, my mistakes,_ ” His tone took on a bitter edge, dripping with loathing as he stopped his pacing in front of Vergil again, _“I couldn’t see her paths, her future. But I could see yours, all of the paths that branched out once you left Fortuna and were no longer shrouded by her blindspot--I saw you depart and erect the tower, saw you fight Mundus and lose pitifully, saw the Qliphoth tree. And I saw you come back to life, living without her at all.”_

_We...we left her._

_We left?_

_But...why?_

The God suddenly turned again, the landscape shifting and weaving as he spoke, changing over and over again to match the story he told. All the while Vergil sat in the center of it, watching with a numb expression and eyes that were seemingly unable to blink. With each new image came the memory in kind, rebuilding the portrait of Fortuna in his life piece by piece. And with that...came more horror, dread, apprehension. Because he knew there was no happy ending to this tale, weaved by the Outsider’s pale lips and made into being again. Like icy shackles wrapping around his heart and soul, leaving him chained down in this personal hell as the reel of his mistakes played to the end.

 _“I tried to whisper to her, telling her to come home,”_ The Outsider continued, showing an image of you sitting in front of a shrine to listen as his own past self spoke, “ _But...as my child, I wanted her to have free will above all things. She made the choice to stay, not wanting to run from her first mission or you.”_

_She was so dedicated to us, so kind. Her heart ached as much as yours did, but she--_

The image changed again, showing the moments he shared with you, one by one. Training in a cove hidden behind the cliffs of Fortuna, taking a moment to rest after days of walking around the city and searching for clues. Your head unconsciously resting on his shoulder. Your gentle hands every time they lingered on his shoulders, his arms, his chest. You had been warm, like the sun, a gentle treat he never deserved or cherished as he should have. How touch starved he had been, not realizing it until you came into his life and brought those little affections back. His pride had been so full, achingly desperate to keep his ideals on track, but...he was falling for you, little by little. Touch by touch, piece by piece. He had been so ignorant to it as well, trying to write it off as anything but the truth it was.

A mistake. He knew that.

 _“I knew you were going to hurt her, but could do nothing,”_ The Outsider continued on, tone low and angry as he watched you both interact, the adoration growing in your beautiful eyes along with your confidence in your abilities, _“She would not listen to my warnings, blinded by her affections and hopes. You were helping her grow, to learn herself again and remembering how to live. She was so happy in those times, how could I hope to crush it?”_

 _No...no,_ V was whispering, knowing full well what was to come, knowing this would end in your ruin, _Please...please don’t do this…_

They couldn’t look away. They could do nothing but sit and watch everything fall to pieces. Vergil wanted to grab his old self by the collar, to step in and snarl in his face to let go of the need for power, to change his mind. Take you away from Fortuna and accept the blessing as it was offered, save himself from the pain of humiliation and defeat. _To save you._ He didn’t want to see the end, didn’t want to see what happened to you and the damage done. It was like a gun to his chest, waiting to go off and rip apart all that was inside of him. All his cockiness, all his pride...left shattered on the floor, left forgotten in the face of all that he was seeing. He didn’t care anymore-- _he didn’t care and it was too late. The damage was done._

The Outsider could sense his growing turmoil, letting out a light scoff as the image changed again, _“I was unable to predict both you and her, watching your future for any changes as she grew closer to you,”_ He leveled his gaze on the older version of Vergil, eyes dark and cold as he hissed, “ _No such luck. Even when you sealed her fate in place, taking the final piece of her that wasn’t yours to take.”_

The image shifted to a room in Fortuna, one that he was growing to recognize all too well. Dark, lit dimly by the moonlight from a window over his bed. You had both stopped for the night at a small Inn on the coast, one ran by a woman who didn’t mind letting outsiders stay there provided they help keep the place protected from demons. It was easy enough to take care of, and it was the one night he had actually allowed himself to fall asleep. After weeks of walking, almost months of searching and fighting...weariness was an unfortunate side effect of his human half that wasn’t avoided forever. His eyes had closed, and after becoming so close to you...sharing a bed didn’t seem all that terrible at the time.

He saw himself jolt awake in his sleep, eyes wide and glassy from a nightmare and breaths heaving from his lungs. Weakness was so very hard to hide just waking up, especially from you. That night he had dreamt of his mother, of that day at the playground when demons attacked him. Beaten within an inch of his life, curled up in a ditch hours later clutching the Yamato to his chest. The demons left him for dead, but he was able to heal enough to drag himself out, limping home to find that...home wasn’t there at all. His mother was gone, Dante was gone, and he...he was alone. Damaged beyond relief, and knowing full well that his mother was dead.

He had awakened in a cold sweat, trembling and in a state of vulnerability he avoided sleep just to stay away from. It...it had only made sense that you had woken up too, that you had reached out to him with that warmth of yours. That...that…

Vergil saw himself kiss you for the first time, saw the way you sobbed in relief and gave everything to him, every ounce of affection you had in that body. In the storm of his own pain, you had been the sun, bringing the warmth and comfort he allowed himself to crave...just for that night. _A lapse,_ he had told himself, biting down his own instinctive self-loathing and pride, _Just for tonight. I need this. I...need her._

The image faded with the sight of him pulling you under the covers, no longer needed to be witnessed now that it was a memory fresh in his mind. And it hurt. _It hurt._ Remembering how it all been that night, the feeling of your hands, the soft sounds of you moaning in his ear, kissing him and staring at him with adoring eyes. _His memories_ , not V’s. Those belonged the son of Sparda, from long ago and with such a force he felt it might snap him in two. His hands, his lips, his touch. No tattoos, no black hair--just Vergil Sparda, and you...one of his only moments of vulnerability and pain that resulted in his first night of passion he ever experienced. 

 _She was everything,_ V choked, voice raw and pained as he re-lived those memories too, _She was everything and we were nothing._

 _“You grew afraid of how attached you were to her,”_ The Outsider’s voice whispered in his ear, low and bitter as he leaned down behind the forsaken man and changed the image again. Showing younger Vergil now walking alone in the early morning after making love to you, panic in his eyes and a scowl marring his lips. He had left you in the room to pace the empty, quiet streets. To clear his head, “ _In your searching, you found a book telling you about the Temen-Ni-Gru--the key to your father’s power. She made you hesitate, didn’t she? Made you want to stay behind and doubt your own ideals. And that frightened you beyond all belief, a coward through and through.”_

_No...no no no._

Vergil watched on with horror as his younger self slipped onto a ship out of Fortuna, one of the few at the time that would sail to the neighboring shore for supplies and goods. Cloak on, head down and a driven look in his eyes again. The sun was peeking over the horizon, and by the time you woke up...he would already be gone. You told him of your God and the Void, surely you’d be able to return or leave Fortuna as you saw fit, right? 

He convinced himself of that, told himself as the boat set onto the waves that this was for the best. Affection was beyond him, it was better for you to find someone else. This feeling was a weakness to him, a distraction he couldn’t afford to have anymore. He swallowed the guilt, swallowed the emotion, and focused on his task as much as his foolish mind would allow.

But things never worked out that way, did they?

This was where his memories ran dry, this is where the harsh reality began. The Outsider snapped his fingers, showing you sitting up in bed, staring around the room with tired confusion and rubbing those beautiful eyes. The marks of his bites were still on your shoulders, body still relaxed from sleep and...and…

He heard commotion outside, loud and forceful like feet pounding up the stairs.

 _“Had you waited a day, had you talked to her,_ ” The Outsider said low and furious, standing behind Vergil will his hand gripping his shoulder so tight it cracked bone, “ _You would have been able to protect her when they came, tipped off by a follower who lived next door and saw you both fighting demons. But you can’t protect anyone, can you?”_

 _No no no,_ his thoughts were aligned with V, a pained chorus that rose in tempo as the image unfolded before him, _This isn’t right, this shouldn’t be happening, it--_

But it had happened. And he knew it was as true as the sun rising and setting every day.

He watched with wide eyes, hollow and pained as the door was broken in on your room, men of the Order pushing their way inside with weapons drawn. You were vulnerable, weak, unprepared and not knowing where he was. The training hadn’t been enough, your powers couldn’t manifest as well with how emotional you felt--he had become your rock, holding you steady and giving you the confidence to fight. Without him...you had succumbed, tendrils lashing out blindly at the hands grabbing you and immediately shut down by shackles placed on your wrists. Screams and cries left your lips, body thrashing as they dragged you down the stairs and wrapped you in a cloak. Vergil broke inside at the sound of his name on your lips, desperate and raw as you begged for help that wouldn’t come, _waiting for him to save you._ You cried out into the morning air as they dragged you into a carriage, door slamming shut and no one there to save you.

Because he was already gone, and he would never know.

 _NO_! V’s voice was a scream in Vergil’s numb mind, loud and jarring as he saw the tears drip down your cheeks, _NO! What have we done--WHAT HAVE WE DONE?!_

The Outsider stood beside him and watched the carriage take you away, heading for the place where he knew the Order practiced the most of their activities. Vergil couldn’t even see his face, unable to tear his eyes away and feeling something warm drip down his cheeks, pattering onto his knees like falling rain. His throat felt like it was choking, no sound but wheezing gasps managing to wring themselves out. He had left you, _he had left-_ -abandoned you right when he was needed most, running away just as he did as a child. And like then, he had not been there when things fell to pieces, and someone suffered as a result.

_He was a fool._

_He was a monster._

_This was his punishment, and he deserved it._

_“I could do nothing once they put the shackles on her,”_ The Outsider said tiredly, kneeling down and watching the tears patter silently from Vergil’s burning eyes, “ _Sparda’s power really doesn’t agree with mine--all their rituals and scheming created a wall between me and her, one that was snapped in place once they had her inside. I tried to summon forth a few of my followers to help her, but...it was far too late by then.”_

The image changed once more, showing an image of you in what equated to a prison cell. There was a small bed, chains that kept you connected to a nearby wall, and...no windows in sight. Vergil could have ripped himself and the Order apart at your living conditions, at the state you were in. Pale and tired, burns on your wrists and ankles from the shackles and looking so very miserable. And worse...sitting there on the bed, curled protectively over your stomach, carrying within you his child in your womb. _Nero._ That one night of passion had gotten you pregnant, and he had been completely ignorant to it all. You looked like your mind was barely hanging together, that light he so adored in your eyes faded and the warmth gone away. Broken, defeated, and carrying a child to boot.

All because of his cowardice. _His mistakes._ The idea alone made him want to retch, made him want to rip the wall open and carry you to safety like you deserved. How many nights did you lie there, hoping and waiting for Vergil to save you, for him to get you out of that bad situation? Did you eventually give up hope, did you realize he had left you for his own foolish reasons? The guilt was stabbing him over and over in the gut, ripping apart his insides until he was burning and writhing from it. But...his body was still frozen, as if the Void itself was holding him in place. There would be no trying, not with the Outsider getting exactly what he wanted.

 _“How she felt there, sitting alone in a cell waiting for someone to save her,”_ The Outsider whispered in his ear, fingers digging into his skin until his collarbone cracked under the pressure, _“But you never came, and never would. I tried where you failed, sending a few followers there to try and get her out. But...they were not successful, especially not with their powers affected by the rituals those people did.”_

_She sat there for months of pregnancy, being experimented on and tortured. While you erected a tower, and fought your brother--_

_What have we done--_

_What have we--_

_“The Order realized the pregnancy before she did, and were determined to bring the baby to term and see if they could analyze it for the source of Y/N’s power. They grew impatient, and decided to cut the child from her early--but she would never allow it.”_

The image changed as the Outsider spoke, showing you lashing out in a last ditch burst of power, screaming with all the Void’s howling and shattering the shackles holding you back. Alarms blared as you ran through the halls of the Order, panting and shaking with black veins spreading out from your palms as you killed any who tried to touch you. The first window you happened across was your escape, aiming to launch out into the rain before any of the men could get their hands on you. All the while one arm cradled your stomach protectively, tears dripping down your cheeks and expression somewhere between fear and desperation. You were barely holding together, barely able to control yourself as you ran from the bullets fired at your back.

But you couldn’t avoid everything.

Two bullets hit your shoulders, a choked scream leaving your lips as you shattered the glass and fell toward the churning ocean below. The men of the Order shouted as they watched you plunge into the water like a rag doll, assuming you dead after where you had been hit by their shots and claiming none could survive the sea during a storm. But...they had been wrong, so wrong, doubting just how far a mother could go to save her child. The Outsider could interfere now you were free, channeling the ocean to bring you to shore but not bringing you back into the Void-- _why? Why didn’t he just return you there and then?_ Why deposit you coughing onto the beach miles away, shaking and crying as you held your stomach?

For that matter, where were his followers when you escaped, why had they not stuck around to aid you? There was no one in sight as you dragged yourself up on the sand, shaking so hard you could barely stand and coughing up rain water. You pulled yourself into a small, tucked away area underneath the cliff-side, shielded from the rain and bleeding from your chest down onto the tattered clothes you wore. The sight of you would never leave him, that he was sure of. Broken and battered, drenched in rain and looking like you had no fight left. 

The God answered Vergil’s question like he had asked it aloud, rain dripping down his hair and chin and regret in his black eyes, _“My followers are not like her--they cannot travel between worlds from long periods of time. I could not bring her back because she did not want me too--she begged it of me, pleaded with me not to take her into the Void.”_

He let out a slow breath, tilting his head to the side and staring at the water churning on the shore. Such a faraway look, one speaking of years and years of loneliness, “ _It is no place for a baby to be born, so cold and empty and dark. She... didn’t want his first breath to be the Void’s air, didn’t want him to feel that chill,_ ” He looked up at the storming sky, black eyes endless and cold as he added quietly, _“But was this any better?”_

Your wails and cries made the God turn again, staring back at you with sad eyes as you clutched at your stomach, writhing and thrashing on the sand. Vergil was drenched now too, the water washing away the tears from his eyes and leaving a chill in his limbs. But he couldn’t care less. Couldn’t feel anything but that aching agony in his chest. You had gone into labor on the beaches of Fortuna, alone and scared and injured already to boot. There was a fear in your eyes, absolute terror as you did your best alone, knowing nothing about how to bring a child in the world and working on instinct alone. 

The storm raged on while you screamed, muffling the sound with the pattering rain and light fading fast with the ending day. You were hurt, and had exerted to add insult to injury--he remembered how you looked from V’s eyes, seeing the exhaustion on your face and the shaking of your hands. You had nothing left to give, but gave it anyway.

The image passed, showing Vergil when the sky was now dark and the rain had settled to a steady downpour. Hours must have passed with you alone on the beach, in that personal hell he had caused by leaving in a moment of cowardice. Your screams were replaced by the wailing of a baby, sharp and clear as it cut through the open air and alive despite all the odds stacked against you both. Nero’s first breath, his first cries.. _.His son._ Vergil had never heard it before, not until now. His own foolishness had robbed him of seeing the birth of his kin, the sound both a blessing and a curse to his ears.

The sight of you made his mind fracture more, screams of denial desperately trying to claw their way through his lips, but unable to.

There was blood, so much blood. More than he knew should be there. You were holding Nero in weak arms, having torn the majority of your shirt off to wrap him in it. But it was of no use, you were fading far faster than time would allow you to have with your son. You where pale as a sheet, eyes glassy and breaths coming short and fast as you held Nero to you, protecting him with the final ounce of strength you had.

 _No...no, not like this, please don’t let her die like this._ His mind was pleading over and over, wishing he had stayed, wishing he had sensed something had happened and came to save you. But...even if word had arrived of your situation, would he have come? Would his past self have given up the tower, the power, for your sake? Hell...nine months had passed, he was probably being beaten, turned into Nelo Angelo at this point.

And worst of all...he deserved every second of that pain.

You slipping onto the ground slowly, cradling Nero against your fading warmth and laying on your side in a fetal position, holding him to your chest and wheezing. You couldn’t stand, couldn’t manage any more than that. Even moving to a new position looked like agony, your body shaking all over and trembling in your final moments of life.

Something had gone wrong, there had been no doctors to help you. The wounds from the order, coupled with the pregnancy taking a turn for the worst...

 _What have we done? What have we done?_ V was sobbing in his head, quiet now, just as broken as Vergil felt as he watched you lying there, alone and dying on the beach with no one to save you, _What have we done? WHAT HAVE WE DONE…?!_

_We killed her._

_We did this to her._

_We never deserved her._

Your lips parted, but nothing came out, staring at Nero’s small body as he screamed with every ounce of energy he seemed to have. So small and precious, white hair drying with blood to his head and tucked to his mother’s chest. Tears fell from your already-spent eyes, hitching, breaking sobs choking from your lungs and bringing forth agony with them. You looked guilty, terrified, heart-broken...entirely shattered in both mind and body as you stared at this baby, who would soon be without any hope. You weren’t a fool, you knew there would be no healing from this, no miracles. And Vergil knew it too, knew the truth now in its entirety. His eyes were wide open, chest screaming in pain that would never compare to yours, tears dripping from his eyes and lungs clenching with the need to scream.

It would never compare. It would never compare to what you must have felt that day. 

He watched as you lifted a hand, cutting a line into your palm with a nail and whispering a shaking invocation so faint it couldn’t be heard above the rain. What the hell were you trying to do? He remembered that day after fighting the horseman, remembered you doing this same thing to gain some borrowed power to save him. The consequences, the agony...There was no energy left to give.

 _“She used the last of her life to plead to me,”_ The Outsider whispered, tone quiet and sorrowful as his image appeared before you, placing a hand on your head. Seeing the Outsider of the past looking just like the one standing next to him was odd, but of little consequence, “ _I’m not allowed to interfere on my own accord in these worlds outside of shrines and runes, it's why I send her in to do my bidding. She is neither a goddess nor human, so she can walk these worlds and blend in as she sees fit.”_

The past Outsider disappeared from your eyes, leaving you with enough strength to drag yourself to your feet, legs shaking and blood dripping down to your calf. _Why? Why were you so determined?_ Why not just return to the Void and heal, to take Nero there with you and raise him there? You could have returned alone for that matter, been healed by the Outsider and returned to take care of him as needed. But... Maybe because too much time would pass, maybe there was too much danger. Vergil didn’t understand, he couldn’t. There were so many stipulations to your powers and wants that he was falling behind.

 _“She never wanted Nero to feel that place,”_ The Outsider whispered in response, voice barely heard above the rain and fading howls of the Void, _“And she was cracking at the time, soul on the verge of shatter and mind having nothing left to give.”_

_On the verge of shatter?_

The Outsider flinched at the sight of you, one fist clenching so hard his black nails dug into his flesh as he hissed, “ _To be sent to the Void, one’s soul must be on the verge of shattering and have nowhere else to go. There the soul is left where it doesn’t have to be dealt with, breaking apart and forming the chorus that cries into the darkness. Y/N was a rare occurrence, she held on for quite some time until I found her.”_

_Resilient, you had always been so strong. So determined._

Vergil’s heart was throbbing in his chest, watching as you summoned a cloak with the energy the God gave you, wrapping it around Nero to shield him entirely before dragging yourself step by step into the night. You stumbled and swayed, the energy not healing you in the slightest. Just...keeping you alive, giving you the strength to move. But...why?

 _“I built her back, gave her soul form again,_ ” The Outsider continued, shifting the image so it showed you walking down an empty alleyway, not a soul in sight so late into the evening. Your eyes were glassy, staring but seeing nothing. And not a single person saw you, “ _But...the events that happened in Fortuna put her back to that breaking point, she was so close to shattering there was nothing I could do. Her mind was not all there--she knew she could never be a good mother to Nero as she was, someone so surrounded by misfortune and pain, someone so prone to breaking apart.”_

Of course you didn’t want to return--with your final breath you wanted to bring Nero where you knew he would be safe, and seal your own fate so you didn’t have to burden your son anymore. There would be no healing you with your own soul so damaged and broken, the power you were using to stay alive was unstable enough already. Vergil saw whale oil drip from your mouth, carefully avoided so it didn’t patter onto the baby you were barely keeping dry. One foot forward, then another. Leading up the back road to the Fortuna Orphanage, owned by Kyrie’s parents. An occasional tendril appeared from your form, out of control as it twitched and disintegrated with the rain. But you still didn’t stop, like a zombie shuffling along to the front door of the building. No lights were on inside, but it scarcely seemed to matter to you.

He watched you finally collapse once reaching the steps, making sure to keep Nero safely cradled to your chest as your knees gave out and hit the pavement. The trail of blood you left behind was being steadily washed away by rain, pattering onto the steps in rivets of fading red. Nero had started crying again, his wails seeming so loud in the dark of night, accompanied only by the steady pattering all around. As for you...a limit had been reached, the Outsider’s borrowed power running out entirely and leaving you in that weakened state. You set Nero on the dry, top step as carefully as you could before your body tilted to the side, landing hard on the ground in the rain and staring at him with far-away eyes. 

You had done it, hadn’t you? Nero was in a safe place, one where he could live without being burdened by the knowledge of his parents. Of your tragedy, and his. To grow up never knowing what kind of cruel monster his father was, or how he failed the both of you.

_We failed them. We failed them._

You let out a choked whimper of sound, body twitching as you reached out toward Nero’s tiny body next to yours. Your final seconds of life, those final breaths before the Void would finally claim you again. Back to the cold, the dark, the emptiness. All you had wanted was that time in the sun, didn’t you? To love and be loved, to catch up on the happiness life had already taken from you before. And he had scoffed in the face of it, had cut it down as surely as the Yamato could.

_Everything we touch is ruined._

_Everything we love gets hurt._

_We are truly poison, aren’t we?_

Vegril was jolted out of his thoughts by the sound of your voice, barely heard and weak as it scraped its way past your broken lips. He watched as your hand lifted to touch Nero’s cheek, your face a mask of regret and agony as you stared at the baby boy one last time. Like he was the world, and you had failed him.

_“Forgive...me....please...”_

_No...no no no._

_This wasn’t your fault--_

_There is nothing you could have done._

_What have we done? What have we done--  
_

Vergil was forced to watch in horror as you died on the orphanage steps, barely able to whisper out a goodbye to your child before the final breath left your lungs.

It was then the scream finally managed to break free of Vergil’s aching chest, movement allowed back to his frozen limbs. He bowed over, clutching his head as he unleashed all the pent up agony from his body, the denial, the regret, the hatred for himself and his past actions. It echoed through the night air of Fortuna like he was there, the rain dripping from his silver hair in steady streams and over his parted lips. _What have we done? What did we do? Everything was touch gets destroyed, every choice we make ends in someone’s pain and heartache_. Even after all the trying, all the work, everything...he could save nothing and no one--All the people who mattered, the ones he loved...In the end, his choices lead to their ruin, every single one of them.

_Y/N, Eva, Dante, Nero..._

_His actions had failed each and every one of you._

_This was his punishment, and he deserved it._

_Deserved it and more._

When Vergil finally lifted his head, breaths heaving from his battered lungs and face twisted in anguish, he saw your body start to disappear. You disintegrated into black crystal, similar to how the Outsider did before and vanishing without a trace. No body to bury, leaving behind only minute traces of blood that the rain was steadily washing away.

Nero was left crying and alone, the sound alerting someone in the home and a light turning on in the front room. Kyrie’s parents, Vergil could formulate that realization well enough despite how broken he felt. The door opened a second later, revealing a woman in a night robe as she turned on the porch light and gasped in shock at the sight of a baby on her doorstep. One wrapped in cloth, slightly stained with blood and no one around in sight. _His child, his son_ \--what a horrible way to start his life, born to a suffering mother and left as she died to bring him into the world.

Kyrie’s mother didn’t hesitate, quickly picking up the baby and holding him to her chest protectively. _What kind of monster would leave a baby out in the rain?_ She wondered aloud, voice soft and disbelieving as she stroked Nero’s red cheek. She could never know, never understand the sacrifice it took to get Nero there in the first place. The blood was practically gone, no trace of you left behind other than the very son he had helped make. Your story died there with you, and Nero would never get to know what his mother had been through to bring him into the world. 

_Forgive me Nero.  
_

_Forgive us for how we failed you._

_You father has always been a fool._

It was the last of his child that Vergil would be allowed to see, the woman turning and quickly shutting the door as she called desperately for her husband to come and help her with the new child. The son of Sparda knew the two would raise Nero right, would take care of him despite his devil arm and would build him into an individual of strength and kindness. He would meet his future wife here, would find happiness--just as his mother wanted for him, just as she had hoped. 

Vergil sat in the rain for a few moments in silence, staring sightless at the closed door with tears lost to the rain water.

Only then did the black-eyed God seem satisfied, snapping his fingers and turning the illusion into a cloud of black crystal shards. All at once the sensations disappeared, the rain, the scent of Fortuna and the taste of salt water on the air. Vergil found himself on his hands and knees on that same fucking piece of debris, staring down at his own trembling hands and hyperventilating after all that he had seen and learned. He could barely breathe, barely think--the truth was like an ocean resting on his back, leaving him bowing under the weight and unable to get up. _What had he done? What the fuck had he done?_ The son of Sparda might as well have killed you himself, leaving you to bleed out on the beaches of Fortuna alone and aching for someone to save you.

_He was a monster, deplorable. And he was certain he knew it all along, but was too prideful to admit it._

All this madness, and what did he have to show for it? He was alive, he had done so many terrible things and had gained nothing. _Lost everything._ What would his mother think if she saw him now, kneeling before a black-eyed God and coughing from the burn of bile in his throat? If she knew of the crimes he would commit, the lives he would ruin. The only woman who would ever love him had died a terrible death, a tragic one, all because he couldn’t let go of his past. Why didn’t he just stay, what would have happened if he had? To save you, then get you out of Fortuna and somewhere safe. Nero would have been born safely with a mother who loved him instead of being left on a damp doorstep at night. It was Vergil’s fault, all of it--Nero had every right in the world to hate his guts, to want him dead.

And so did you.

V had not stopped in his mourning, his screams and cries simmering down to low sobs that echoed in Vergil’s skull. Twice. _They had hurt you and ripped you apart twice_ \--he had more to be guilty for than he could have ever imagined. V was not a sentient being when all those events transpired, but they might as well have been blood on his hands too in the eyes of the poet. Every lie he told you, every bit of affection he took knowing he would someday be gone...it hurt more than ever before, tearing them both apart inside. It was no wonder V had loved you with every part of his frail body--it was that part of Vergil that had ached so heavily for your affection, the part that you had touched the most with that light you carried inside. V was drawn to you because of the love Vergil had felt at that time, the one he had tried to bury and forget, but...it only made sense it would be buried right alongside his humanity.

V didn’t have those memories, but god his half of Vergil’s soul had known you.

_We hurt her--we hurt her so terribly. We took everything she had to give and then hurt her more--_

The Outsider remained silent as Vergil heaved, vomiting bile considering there was absolutely nothing left to cough up. There was a cold glower in his eyes at the sight of the half-demon’s suffering, one without pity or remorse. This was exactly what the God had hoped for after all, to see Vergil suffer for his crimes and make him feel something even remotely close to all the pain he had caused you. For a moment, Vergil was afraid--you were nowhere in sight among the inky blackness of the Void’s glow, the realization hitting him that the trials had not been that at all. So what would become of you now that the Outsider had his way? Would you suffer more for his cowardice? What would you think of him now that you knew the truth?

It was the black-eyed God who answered his question, approaching with slow steps and kneeling down in front of Vergil’s prone form. He grabbed a fistfull of Vergil’s hair, yanking his head up so those silvery-blue eyes were forced to stare at the God’s enigmatic face. What kind of image did Vergil paint now? Shaken, face twisted in pain and horror and saliva still dotting the corners of his mouth--pathetic, that was for certain. Vergil doubted he had ever been so weak in his life, so foolish, so absolutely deplorable. 

 _“I’m so glad to see you have finally learned your place,”_ The Outsider rejoiced, a small smirk tilting his lips as he beheld Vergil’s agony, _“And for the record, the only one who will walk away remembering what you did is you, son of Sparda._ ”

_What?_

The Outsider clicked his tongue, releasing Vergil’s hair so he was forced to collapse back onto the ground with a wheeze. The God stood, looming ominously as he studied Vergil’s form like he was merely dirt under his shoe, _“Y/N can never remember who she was then, or what was done--the heartbreak is too much, the trauma would snap her in half. It is the one thing she can never handle, the one truth she can never be allowed to know or else lose her soul’s stability again. As Nero’s friend, as someone who cares about him...do you truly believe Y/N could handle the guilt of knowing all his suffering was because of her mistakes?”_

The God was right, of course he was. Just seeing the look in your eyes when the memories had tried to resurface, when you saw yourself standing there...Vergil never wanted you to hurt like that again. But that didn’t answer the question of what was to happen now, especially to you. Would the Outsider let you return home to the others, ignorant to all that had happened? Would he erase your memory of it and plunge Vergil into the Void for his crimes? He deserved it--writhing for an eternity in the darkness until he would shatter and join the chorus of howling would be a fate worthy of all his crimes.

_But...he still ached._

_He was still selfish._

_He wanted you even after all that was done, but would never deserve you again._

“Please…” Vergil rasped, voice hoarse and broken as he tried to pull himself upright. To take a gander at the God, imploring him to listen even a little to what the son of Sparda wanted. You deserved happiness, you deserved anything from this other than pain. And he was willing to sacrifice for it, “Remove V from me, let Y/N have him back and live happily... _please._ It’s all I have to give.”

V had given you all the love and affection you deserved, the part of him that could truly give himself to you without holding back. Vergil had lost his right to be yours the day he left you in Fortuna, ignorant to your fate. His human half had tried, had been everything you wanted and needed while still being your soulmate in technical aspects--Vergil should have known all along, the part of him that should have been your soulmate had always been the poet. It took splitting himself apart to realize it, but... _he knew now._ This was the only way to pay for his crimes, to suffer the way he deserved to.

Y _ou can’t-_ -V whispered, sounding just as broken and miserable as he- _-I am just as guilty. I am you and you are me, one cannot exist without the other._

_Not anymore._

_“You are making demands now?”_ The Outsider seemed unimpressed by Vergil’s lamenting, turning on his heel and slowly walking in a slow circle around the miserable man. His footfalls were silent, the chill he carried with him like frostbite in the air as he replied, _“All that I have done, every trial and mission I have put Y/N through has been to help her. For every pain she felt, that tolerance grew, slowly strengthening her soul over time so I would never run the risk of almost losing her again. She has suffered enough that all minor pains pale in comparison, it has made my child strong and resilient in the face of tragedy. Even in the tree, even after all the pain she felt at losing V...my efforts made their difference, she did not start to crack once, and built herself back without my help.”_

So this was the God’s angle, wasn’t it? This was his goal all along. Vergil had wondered from all of V’s memories why the god seemed so aloof with you when his guidance was needed most, why he seemed determined to put you in scenarios that only caused you pain. He had twisted an idea in his head that all of the cruelty was needed to make you strong, so your soul could stand on its own even in the face of unbelievable pain. Even if it meant hating the man you considered a father, even if it meant you would grow bitter and cold. Vergil had no doubts that almost losing you that second time had scared the God, especially considering he saw you as his child. And he vowed to never let you come that close to shattering again.

That didn’t make it right. It didn’t excuse all the times he purposely put you through trauma just to build up your tolerance.

The Outsider let out a snort, sensing Vergil’s thoughts with disdain in those cold eyes, “ _Are you here to judge me for what I have done, the steps I have taken to save my child’s soul? No--_ ” He grabbed Vergil by the collar, holding him up with ease and staring at his face with a twisted sense of glee, “Y _ou are here to suffer for what you did to her--you almost took something very precious from me, something this place had never allowed before. Do you have any idea how long it took to fix her mind, to subdue those memories so not even traces remained? All the other traumas...if they became too much I would dilute them, remove the images but leave the traces of emotion for her to process as she saw fit. But what you did...that I could never leave behind.”_

Vergil couldn’t even argue, lips parted for wheezing gasps but nothing else. He couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t even begin to think of how hard it must have been for you to come back from what was done. To have a child you never got to know, to raise, and then have all the memory taken away so it didn’t break your fragile mind. There was so much love inside your soul to give, so much happiness you could have shared with Nero if Vegril hadn’t messed things up so badly. But...he robbed you of that for his own selfish gain, then forgot it all to add insult to injury. How he had ached, feeling the sting of defeat in hell while Mundus stripped him of his will and dignity. _Nothing could be worse than this_ , he had convinced himself. All the while you were suffering something far worse, and he was ignorant to it all.

 _“I played a part in your memories too,_ ” The Outsider hissed, turning and slowly walking toward the edge of the precipice with Vergil dangling from his grasp, _“After all, I couldn’t have you remembering her when she came back to this world. I didn’t know what she would change upon coming here, but everything played out beautifully--V returned to Urizen as he was supposed to, the tree destroyed. And you started falling to pieces.”_

He planned all of it. From the moment you arrived to the moment he took his first breath as Vergil again. All of this was meant to end in the half-demon’s torment.

Vergil closed his eyes, breath dragging itself out of his lungs as he whispered hoarsely, “And you would leave her unhappy in the process? Is this what she wants?”

If this was truly your desire, to see him suffer for all his crimes...he would take it without complaint. Vergil had never been the type to bow his head to anyone, but for you...he would take the pain of punishment.

 _“Contrary to your opinion, Y/N’s happiness is more important to me than anything,”_ The Outsider responded quietly, fingers gripping Vergil’s collar so tightly the cold was seeping through to his skin, _“I will remove V from your form, and erase his memories of the tragedy you caused in Fortuna--making him a full, complete soul is easy enough. As for you...letting you suffer in the Void will be far too easy.”_

 _...What?_ Vergil felt his breath catch, teeth grinding hard enough that his jaw ached. What else could there possibly do to make this worse for him other than that?

The God narrowed his black, endless eyes as he continued on, _“Through the Void, all can be made reality. I will take V from you, and fill your soul back with that same humanity he once was--a clean slate with all the same memories, all the same emotions and feelings but now with V’s consciousness gone.”_

 _“...Why?”_ Vergil’s voice came out barely as a whisper, filled with apprehension and confusion as he gripped the Outsider’s arms holding him up. This wasn’t right, none of this make sense--why would he leave him alive and whole after all of that, what the hell was the point? Wouldn’t it make sense to just take Urizen and throw him into the Void so he would slowly cease to exist? Instead the God seemed intent on leaving Vergil just as he was, but making it so that V could exist separately without the Sparda losing his humanity. 

_What does this serve to him?_

_What does this black-eyed bastard gain?_

The Outsider smiled, seeming to sense the confusion in Vergil’s thoughts and taking great amusement in it. All his years of plotting, of watching Vergil live out his mistakes and seeing him shrug them off without taking any responsibility for them...this had to be an absolute joy.

 _“Y/N will gain back the man she loves,”_ He replied simply, tilting his head to the side and leveling a cold glare on Vergil’s face, _“And you will bear the burden of these truths for the rest of your life. You will live with the knowledge that she was meant to be yours, but never be allowed to have her again for as long as you live. How will it feel to see her love a man that is no longer you anymore, so see her kiss and hold him with all the love you never deserved while you know exactly what suffering you caused?”_

Vergil felt his heart start hammering against his ribs, faster and faster as the reality started setting in again. His emotions for you ran so deep now, so heavy and drowning him in an unbelievable sensation of longing. To be forced to swallow all that he felt, to watch you love V with everything he had desired and craved and to no longer have that connection to you anymore...That was truly what he deserved, wasn’t it? To feel that level of misery for the rest of his life, to live knowing just how much he screwed up and never be allowed to have you again. You had been his soulmate, the only one who could love him and see past all the walls he put up without judgment. And he...he had lost you, lost his one true chance at happiness.

 _You can’t…!_ V whispered in his head, frantic and pained as he pushed pressure against Vergil’s skull, _Do you truly think she would want this? To lose her soulmate and only gain the human half of him? Should she settle for that? Please--_

This...this would be for the best, wouldn’t it? What was the point of getting all of him when V was exactly what you needed? Someone who could love you, cherish you, who could love you without restraint? Vergil as a whole would always be tied down by his own trauma, by his own cowardice and cruelty. As long as Urizen existed inside of him, he could never be what was good for you, what was needed. What you felt for him before, back in Fortuna...it didn’t matter anymore, not after he crushed it all under his unyielding heels. That love had never been deserved, but what you had with V had been good, pure, untainted by Urizen’s filthy essence and Vergil’s cruelty. You deserved to have that again, and he...he deserved to crumble. 

_No, please--_

_“I see you are in agreement with me,”_ The Outsider sounded pleased, a slow smirk lifting the edges of his cold-looking lips, “ _When Y/N wakes up again, she will not remember the final trial. And by then, V will be returned and you will lie to her--you will say that you passed the trials and this was what you asked of me. You will tell her all your feelings for her left with V, and that everything is as it should be. There should be no confusion once I sever the remaining traces of connection her soul has to yours, and you will never tell her what you have seen here today.”_

_You can’t, you shouldn’t--_

_This is not how things should end--_

Vergil closed his eyes again, head tilting back and a numbness settling over his frame once the Outsider’s chill started to seep in. Right to the bone, like being submerged in ice water. His temples throbbed while V struggled, not wanting this outcome, not wanting to lose his memory of what happened. But Vergil...he was resigned to his fate, ready to take the burden on himself no matter how terribly he would suffer for it. All of the mistakes, all of the foolish pride had brought him to this point, to be robbed of happiness was a just punishment. He had swallowed emotions before, he could do it again. Even if he grew numb and tired, even if it ached until day he died...there were still amends to be made, and no more running away.

_“Vergil Sparda, this is your punishment for hurting my child.”_

_Stop._

_Please, Vergil._

_Please--_

But he didn’t have to say anything.

There was a moment of silence with no change, no actions made by the black eyed god and filled only with the howling of the Void. What was going on? Something made the Outsider pause. Vergil didn’t know what had halted him, but the God hesitated, a gasp leaving his lips and energy halting in its grip on Vergil’s very soul. Had you awoken early? Had he changed his mind? Both were disproved when the Outsider let out a shuddering breath, an unfamiliar male voice cutting through the howling of the Void behind him with a stern gruffness that surprised them both.

_“That is enough, Outsider.”_


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one came out late--its twenty three thousand words and took a metric fuck ton of time to edit. The next chapter is the epilogue, I hope you guys enjoy
> 
> Edit: I WILL BE POSTING AN ALTERNATE ENDING TO THIS FIC, BUT ONE WHERE SHE ENDS UP WITH VERGIL. I didn't anticipate how much this ending would leave people dissatisfied, and tbh I wanted to write a Vergil ending anyway but so many people were upset at the idea that I compromised on this ending--in the Vergil one she will keep her memories too, I'll figure out a way. I'll probably have a more in-depth talk about this at my Tumblr too, for those interested: https://spirit-of-the-void.tumblr.com/

__

_Chapter 39_

_(Vergil POV)_

_Who the hell is that?_

Vergil stared in blank confusion at the newcomer, not recognizing him in the slightest. Was this supposed to be another god, one who existed with the Outsider among the endless darkness of the Void? He...didn’t seem like it. This man was rugged in appearance, his eyes a clear brown and hair dark with hints of gray. Older in age, grizzled with an unshaven face and an air of tired annoyance as he stared at the black-eyed God. Speaking of that, this newcomer had normal eyes, and no appearance of ethereal energy to suggest he was anything other than human--nothing seemed amiss minus the clear mark of the Deity on his hand, glowing lightly so close to his presence. But how had he gotten here when the God clearly seemed surprised, and why did the Outsider look like he had been caught red-handed doing something he wasn’t supposed to be? 

_What is going on?_

Among the chaos swirling in his head, mingling with the sound of V protesting his choices and voicing that guilt and agony eating them alive...this new surprise definitely wasn’t appreciated, or needed. An interruption had arrived and prolonged his punishment, which was something Vergil found a twinge of exhausted annoyance in. _God, he was so tired_. Not himself, not sure who “Vergil” was anymore. Guilt was such a new thing, one he spent so long avoiding and pretending wasn’t there. It now bloomed inside him like vines gripping every organ, suffocating each breath and making his heart thud painfully. He had done wrong by you, by everyone in his life. Years and years of pride and foolishness had blinded him into thinking one way, plunging into fear and cowardice like they somehow protected him. 

They never did, and he was always found wanting.

The Outsider had opened up those wounds with serrated blades, flayed him alive and leaving him to bleed upon the ground. Vergil would have gladly gave every drop of that blood to you, like it would have somehow repaired the damage he did all those years ago. It never would, of course. How would he ever be able to look Nero in the eyes after this, and see every way he had wronged the boy? Causing the destruction of his mother, abandoning them in Fortuna, ripping off his arm for some selfish idea of power...Every encounter he had with the white-haired demon hunter had been rife with agony, and Vergil knew now that Nero’s hatred of him was far more deserved than previously anticipated.

He would live with that hatred, that agony. Now he only wished this newcomer would let him get to it.

_Vergil, please--_

He ignored V, staring between the Outsider and the unfamiliar man as the God visibly flinched. His black eyes widened, jaw tightened in a visible display of discomfort that shocked the son of Sparda. Who was this grizzled man, one who clearly had a hold over the black-eyed bastard? The stranger in question crossed his arms, narrowing his brown eyes at them both and seeming heavily displeased all things considered. This was all growing very confusing, Vergil half expecting another God or something to show themselves and stop the Outsider, not someone so unassuming and normal. Could the God sweat? He sure seemed like he was on the verge of it, almost sulky as he finally released his grip on Vergil and letting him collapse in an unceremonious heap on the floor.

The impact hurt, but Vergil couldn’t care less. He was resting on his knees again, body aching and lungs feeling like they had been doused in ice water. Why wouldn’t they just get on with his torture, so he didn’t have to listen to V yelling at him anymore? _This is growing so tiring._ The God paid him no mind, turning away to look at the dark-haired man and clasping his hands behind his back. Was that a nervous tick, the way his fingers tapped lightly in sets of three on his own skin? Seemed like it.

 _“What are you doing here?_ ” The Outsider replied flatly, seeming _definitely_ sulky as he kept that little tick going beyond the stranger’s view, “ _I did not summon you forth, and you are supposed to be aiding Emily with the young ones, are you not?”_

The strange man rolled his eyes at the Outsider’s irritated tone, not seeming impressed or intimidated in the slightest bit. He merely rose a thick brow, muscles bunching and relaxing under his black jacket in a show of his athletic build. This man had seen combat, and it showed down to the little pink, faded scars on his face to the callouses on his fingertips.

“Am I not allowed to come and visit?” He replied with a snort, lifting the hand with the Outsider’s mark and wiggling his fingers meaningfully, “You are the one who gave me that option, bastard. Not any other black-eyed God’s called ‘the Outsider’ around here, are there?”

_What in the world is going on?_

The God in question blinked at his response, seeming to blanch even paler despite his already-light complexion. Those fingers twitched, digging into his palm hard enough that any normal person would bleed. Had he really forgotten granting one of his followers an ability? Why was this person throwing him so off balance? To allow someone to travel freely to the Void on will must mean he was important to the man, that was to be certain. 

_Did he know you? Did he know what had transpired here?_

The Outsider let out a low sigh, seeming thoroughly angry with himself as he clipped in response, _“This doesn’t involve you, Corvo. Go home to Emily and your grandchildren.”_

_Corvo? Who the hell is this man?_

_And Emily as well, there was so much Vergil didn’t understand._

“Its night time in Dunwall, Emily and Wyman have things under control without me,” The gruff man--now dubbed _Corvo_ \--clicked his tongue in aggravation, his eyes lingering on Vergil for a moment before slipping back to the God, “I had my suspicions that you were doing shit you weren’t supposed to, but I didn’t realize just how far you went through with them. A brat, as always.”

He called this God of the Void a _brat?_ If Vergil wasn’t so broken already, he might have been shocked or amused. All that could flicker forth was confusion and astonishment, especially when the Outsider looked visibly put off by the comment. His poised stance faltered for a brief second, like the words had jolted up his spine before he settled back and rolled his head on his shoulders. Vergil was growing agitated with this, especially when he seemed like a partial focus for attention. Every second spent here was just prolonging the inevitable,was it not?

Regardless, the Outsider’s annoyance seemed to grow in spades, his bad mood from seeing your previous death only heightened. Like petting a cat the wrong way, he bristled and snapped back, _“I see you are still prone to putting your nose where it doesn’t belong--”_ He raised his fingers, seeming intent on banishing Corvo away as he hissed, _“--It matters not. You have no place in my business.”_

Corvo rose a brow, quickly speaking up before the God could remove him, “Send me back and you’ll never hear from me again, Outsider.” 

His tone was firm, unyielding and clearly telling the truth with that threat. It made the God freeze in place, wide eyes meeting Corvo’s with a shocking amount of hesitation.

Corvo’s presence must have been important to him, very important. Because he backed down a moment later, lowering his hand and glowering at the grizzled man with a hint of resentment and exasperation. Vergil was aghast--why was Corvo interfering, when the Outsider definitely had viable reasons for doing all of this? It made no sense, this conflict didn’t involve him and Vergil was reluctant to admit it. But...he would. He knew his place, wanted to make up for all the wrongs he caused. 

_But...he also didn’t._

He didn’t want to stare at you, watching as you held V’s hand and kissed his cheek. Didn’t want to feel his love for you ache and ache while you gave away the affection once belonging to him, the very love he had thrown away. His human half was the only thing deserving of it, and that knowledge burned and clawed away at the remaining traces of dignity he had. _God, how was he supposed to live with this feeling?_ These memories of you, of loving and wanting you under all those layers of pride? All he had wanted was to never be hurt again, and in turn had caused his own undoing. _Selfish,_ why was he so selfish? This despair, this unhappiness, this fear...it was everything he deserved and more. Yet…

 _You fear like any other person_ , V whispered in reply to his thoughts, pressing lightly on the edges of his consciousness, _Neither of us were deserving of her, yet we took anyway. I just...was a lot more honest with my emotions._

That was precisely why V deserved you more, at least in Vergil’s eyes. 

 _“Why must you interfere right when I so very wish you wouldn’t?_ ” The Outsider’s hiss, laced with desperation drew Vergil out of his thoughts, looking up to see the God stalk up to Corvo with an arrogance in his step, _“You test me, Corvo. After all I did to aid you in avenging your Empress, in saving your daughter Emily and helping her save you in turn…!”_

There was clearly a lot of missing information here that Vergil was just now learning. This man seemed to have a story behind him, one the son of Sparda would not have minded hearing if the circumstances weren’t so dire.

Corvo rose that brow again, tone shockingly calm as he replied, “Which is exactly why I’m here, to help you in return,” He looked at Vergil again, several layers of understanding and recognition in those brown, tired eyes. This man clearly knew the son of Sparda, despite him having no knowledge in comparison. Regardless, Corvo let out a light sigh as he continued, “I had suspected you were scheming the first time around, when she almost lost herself in Fortuna. Is this really what Y/N wants, for you to punish Vergil for something she won’t even remember with relentless torture?”

_He knows me by name. You as well._

_And when you broke after Fortuna._

_How did he know about that?_

Wasn’t that memory from several years ago? Maybe time passed differently in the Void, especially for those who only visited from time to time in comparison to staying there. Corvo had an intimate understanding of the situation, of what the Outsider had planned and what Vergil had done. Why was he interfering if he knew all that had transpired? What did he hope to gain, and how did this help anyone?

The Outsider tensed at Corvo’s declaration, voice whipping out sharply as he spat, “ _He almost took my child from me…! You of all people should know not to question my actions considering what was done to Emily--or have you forgotten how she was kidnapped twice, or how she was forced to fight Delilah to return her throne…?!”_

Corvo still remained calm, staring at the Outsider’s face with his expression not changing. This man seemed...wise, showing his years in his poise and control whilst the Outsider seemed volatile in comparison. How was the God this lacking in control after so many years of being in existence? It didn’t make sense, not this level of anger or hostility. It was almost like he wasn’t used to dealing with emotion at all, which was all too similar to…

Corvo let out a slow breath, taking a step forward and placing both hands on the Outsider’s cheeks. The action surprised Vergil, and the God too by the looks of it. He froze in place, back tense in Vergil’s view and hands clenched at his sides. That motion looked oddly... _tender? Romantic?_ Just what was the relationship between these two? It wasn’t in Vergil’s place to question or wonder, but just what else did he have left to do while sitting there and trying not to interfere?

_Just hush. And wait._

“You’re right,” Corvo said simply, staring intently at the Outsider’s face and projecting an air of absolute reason, “And as a father, let me be the first to give you advice--I know you are still learning, and I know it’s hard for you to grasp what you’re feeling after sitting in this shitty place for years and feeling nothing. But...in regards to your child, forcing your wants upon her is never something that can work out.”

The Outsider was breathing quickly, shown by his shoulder blades moving every so slightly with the movement. The son of Sparda couldn’t see his face, but his low voice betrayed his emotions just as easily.

There was a pause, the God seeming to collect himself ever so slightly before whispering in response, “ _He hurt her. She almost crumbled away to nothing and he would have lived on in ignorance,_ ” His tone was bitter, laced with anger and hatred as he hissed, _“He deserved every ounce of pain he went through and more.”_

That made Corvo frown, working his lower jaw lightly while a thoughtful expression made a home in his rugged features.

“...But did _she_?” He finally replied, tone low and gruff as he tried to reason with the volatile God, “You put Y/N through the wringer too, sent her to all those places and made her hurt more and more. Like making Y/N suffer constantly would somehow make her invulnerable to pain.”

Vergil could remember from V’s eyes, seeing how tired you looked when speaking about your God. Each praise tinged with hesitation, every memory lingering on the edges of trauma that you seemingly couldn’t grasp on to. He had worried about you, especially considering your nightmares that you could never remember afterwards. Taking away the memories of the things that hurt you was only a temporary solution, and not a good one--how could you work through and process traumatic memories if those memories weren’t there at all? You couldn’t hope to work through a feeling that had no roots, it would continue to plague you with no rhyme or reason.

Not that Vergil could talk. He was notorious for ignoring his problems, his trauma and past memories like they were weaknesses weighing him down. How ironic that of the two of you, it would be the woman he hurt most of all that would come out the other end stronger, more stable? You had been so bright, even to V and bouncing back from the bad things that happened to you. Where V gave up, you were determined to save him and fought with every ounce of strength to get him up the tree. And then...all those months later, you looked like the sun again. No trace of your death on the steps of the orphanage, heart still beating despite how they broke it and taking your happiness as you saw fit.

Where he had stayed stuck in his ways, you moved on and flourished. Like a lotus, blooming and beautiful even in the mud that tried to stifle you.

The Outsider sucked in a breath at Corvo’s calm-spoken words, indignation crackling like a physical force in the air as he ground out, “ _I made her strong, my actions worked…!_ ” He yanked himself back from Corvo, forcing the man to let his hands drop to his sides, _“Every pain she will feel after this will be like a fleeting sting now that she has felt the worst she will ever had…!”_

Maybe...he and the Outsider were more alike than he thought.

_If I grow powerful, so powerful that none can stand before me...maybe I will never feel pain again._

Corvo’s expression finally slipped into a hint of anger, lingering more toward exasperation as he took a step closer to the God and snapped, “Listen to yourself! Do you realize how messed up that is, to think hurting your own child is the only way to make her strong?” He grabbed the God by the collar when he tried to retreat another foot back, bringing them closer to Vergil as Corvo continued on forcefully, “I may not have been the best parent, but I know damn well that when you’re teaching your child to swim, you help them until they can do it on their own--not toss them into the ocean and hope they don’t drown…!”

_When someone begins to drown, they are likely to drag down the ones who try and save them._

Vergil felt his gaze lower to the ground, remembering the tower with Dante, remembering every time he fought his brother from childhood to adulthood. What had driven him to such violence other then the intense hatred he felt at seeing Dante so content? How dare his brother come out the other end whole and capable? All Vergil had done was drag his twin down to the same level of misery he felt, taking glee in it like some sadist. How petty it felt, how idiotic. While he was wasting time searching for power, feeling cold and brooding...Dante made a business, made a life, made friends. And that was what had stung the most, realizing that at the end of the day he would always lose to Dante, always be a step behind and lacking in something.

But this wasn’t about him anymore--it was about you.

The Outsider reared back from Corvo’s harsh words, shoulders jolting like the man had visibly slapped him. No such action had occurred, but the meaning had come across loud and clear. He  said nothing, lips sealed shut with either regret or indignation, Vergil wasn’t sure which. Whatever it was made Corvo pause, anger starting to slowly drain as he stared at the black-eyed God with far more patience than he deserved, than any other human could probably muster. It was very clear the gruff male cared about the Outsider, made obvious by the how hard he was seeming to try. The Outsider must have looked unhappy, because he softened his approach in an instant.

“Think for a second what that would do to her,” He coaxed instead, letting go of the black-eyed bastard’s collar and instead placing a hand on his shoulder, right where it met his neck, “If you leave Vergil with his emotion for Y/N, their connection will never leave. It will confuse her, and complicate things more than they need to be and tear her in two. But--” Corvo glanced back at Vergil, narrowing his eyes a bit and saying in a very reasonable tone, “Sever the connection he has to her, take away the emotion he feels and leave the memories...things will right themselves automatically. She can be completely connected to V, and fate will deem someone new for Vergil in return.”

_What…?_

That wasn’t possible, was it? You were the one he was meant to be with, how could he possibly be allowed anyone else after screwing up the first person he was given? Not only that, but he didn’t deserve it, didn’t want to end up ruining someone else’s life like he had done to you. Those visions of the beach, the blood and the sand were so fresh, like daggers in his heart and mind that stabbed relentlessly. He had been the cause of all the suffering, even now sitting on the Void’s floating debris he was the source of the two fighting.  _I am poison, aren’t I?_ Vergil couldn’t imagine wanting anyone but you, and look what happened then. _Anger, heartache, death, agony._ He grit his teeth at the memory, sucking in a sharp breath and digging into his palm with nails so hard they bled. _Pointless, selfish_ \--he could not want something new, it wasn’t...wasn’t…

But...would removing V from him still leave you loving Vergil too? He couldn’t take the risk of that connection remaining, of leaving you in conflict between loving one or the other.

 _“Enough…!_ ” He hissed, drawing the attention of both men and making them turn to look at him. Corvo seemed surprised to finally hear him talk, and the Outsider merely looked annoyed--typical, all things considered, “Isn’t there a way to remove V... and still sever the connection to me without dragging in someone new?” 

_I don’t deserve another._

_I won’t hurt someone again._

_Let me suffer like I deserve._

Corvo let out a light huff, seeming non-impressed by Vergil’s attempt at self-sacrifice, “No, it’s just how things work. Others have lost soulmates too, so it just finds you someone like that too,” He stepped around the incredulous Outsider, kneeling in front of the son of Sparda instead and staring into his icy blue eyes with stern, cold ones of his own. It made Vergil feel oddly...uncomfortable, like being scolded by his father when very young, “Mind you, some things will remain. You deserve to feel guilt, empathy--you deserve to keep those feelings of grief about what you did to her and Nero. But...she’s not yours to love any more, so why not let those feelings go so you can both move on?”

V was strangely quiet at this suggestion, not sure how to feel about it either. Because at the end of the day...he loved you so much, craved to touch you with hands that weren’t owned by another. If there was a chance that the poet could become your soulmate, full and unburdened by Vergil...was it so terrible to want such a thing, especially if his counterpart could end up free of his feelings for you? This solution worked out for everyone, didn’t it? V could have you again, Vergil could be free of his connection to you, everyone would be able to move on. But…

Vergil put a hand to his chest, clenching his fingers around the fabric of his jacket to make the ache go away. The son of Sparda...he loved you too, didn’t he? Just like V. His first love, the one who had been meant for him and him alone. The idea of no longer feeling this emotion, to no longer have someone like you to give him that hope and affection…bittersweet was the best word for it. _Lonely._ Someone new would be meant for him according to Corvo, but...would it ever be the same as this, so deep he felt like drowning? How could he hope to do right by anyone else, to fill that aching Void with anything but what you gave him?

_Selfish. Poison._

_Do right by her--you swore you would._

He closed his eyes, knowing the answer to all his emotion and swallowing it down like bile. This was no longer about what he wanted, what he felt. After being selfish and cruel his whole life...he needed to make a choice on someone else’s behalf, one that he knew would hurt. And that was the price he would pay for his mistakes.

 _Vergil--_ V whispered, sensing his thoughts and feeling hesitant despite how this proposal aided the poet-- _You...are you sure this is what you want?_

_I just want to do right by her._

Corvo was a human, plain and simple, but he read the fear and hesitation in Vergil’s expression easily enough. He rubbed at his beard, seeming a bit thoughtful as he said in a low voice, “After all that you did to hurt her...maybe it would be best to set her free--this works for everyone, yeah?” 

He looked over his shoulder at the Outsider, met with an annoyed glower from the man in question as he barked, “He still gets punished in the end--he lives with the guilt and regret for the rest of his life, and he has to search out his new soulmate after losing his old one. Is that tragic enough for you, brat?”

The Outsider bristled at that nickname, like icy crystals were shuddering along his shoulders as he growled, _“Your insults don’t amuse me, Corvo Attano. You test my patience,”_ But...he hesitated, seeming swayed by the steady look the other man wore and the argument he had in place. Those black pits shifted to Vergil, flickering with a thousand emotions he could barely read. Hatred, anger, resentment, impatience, reluctance, but...ending on acceptance. He looked away, crossing his arms over his chest like a sulky child and muttering softly, _“...So be it. Y/N has been through enough...she deserves to be set free from you and live her life as promised.”_

_This is the end, isn’t it?_

_The end of my story with her._

_And isn’t it bittersweet?_

Corvo nodded, seeming satisfied with the Outsider’s answer and rising to his feet in a fluid motion. He grunted, rolling his shoulders before turning to face the black-eyed God and putting a hand to his cheek again. Tender despite how they had just butted heads, _loving._ The God’s face was finally visible this time, expression softening and those eyes closing as he breathed deep and even. 

It was clear the Outsider had two people he considered very precious in his life, you and Corvo Attano. As twisted as it was, all he had wanted was to do right by you, to fix what Vergil had so carelessly destroyed. And in the end...it was clear he had no idea what he was doing, so similar to the son of Sparda in many ways. Maybe that was why Vergil’s actions made him so angry, because he saw himself in Vergil’s struggles with emotion?

Difference was, Vergil was allowed to walk in the sun--The Deity was not.

“Do right by them,” Corvo instructed the Outsider, stepping back and watching with calm eyes that leveled on Vergil again, “No more suffering today, I think everyone has had enough.”

_Enough to last a lifetime._

_And several more after that._

The God opened his eyes again, seeming tired and reluctant as he too turned to the man kneeling before them both. The anger he had carried for so long was starting to drain, making way for regrets and hesitations now that his own actions had come into question. Maintaining that level of hatred for so long became a weight on one’s shoulders, a heavy and tiring burden. Vergil knew all too well of that weight, having carried so many with him for years that his shoulders ached. Everything hurt now, life full of exhaustion and uncertainties that he didn’t know how to face. You, Nero, whatever his future would bring...it was a lot to take in, far more than he had ever faced head on.

There were a lot of sins to make up for, more than he could ever hope to fix. A life of servitude could never bring back the lives taken by the Qliphoth tree, nor could years of trying to make things up to Nero fix what he did to you both. But...He was so tired, so exhausted with being angry, holding in emotion and trying to be strong and steadfast. It helped nothing and no one...things had to change, and he was not given a choice.

 _That was acceptable. He didn’t deserve one_.

 _Wait-_ -V said softly in Vergil’s skull knowing the Outsider could easily hear. It made the God stop mere feet from him, frowning as he stared at Vergil’s numb expression- _-Please. Do not take my memories of what happened to my Sparrow in Fortuna. Let me keep them._

_He wanted to keep the memories of your suffering? Why?_

_“You wish to hold onto that guilt and pain?”_ The Outsider sounded just as perplexed as Vergil, tilting his head to the side and staring with cold, dark eyes, _“Why is that?”_

V paused, his consciousness hovering on the edge of Vergil’s like a tangible force. As if he was gathering thoughts, ones that the son of Sparda could not see or read.

 _Because they will serve as a reminder_ , He finally whispered, tone soft and filled with mourning as they both remembered that day. Seeing you on the beach, bloodied and drenched in rain as you gave birth to your child. It stung like nothing else, but V was resolute as he continued _, It will remind me to give her every ounce of happiness we took away--I never want to forget that guilt. I played a part in it too._

The Outsider rose a brow, seeming perplexed by the answer as silence stretched between the two. Corvo looked on with confusion, not hearing the exchange but knowing well enough to hold his tongue and stay out of it. Vergil too--what V chose did not involve him anymore, despite how hesitant the choice made the son of Sparda. To have another share that guilt, to live with the aching memories of your suffering...it didn’t seem right, didn’t seem fair. But...V had been inside of him even then, it would make sense that he wanted to help shoulder the blame. And if he could translate that into more love for you...who was he to stop him?

After a few more seconds of silence, the black-eyed bastard nodded, a low smirk on his lips as he flicked his fingers upward. As he did so, black crystalline hands lifted out of the ground beneath Vergil, grasping his arms and legs to lift him up before the god. They were cold, so very cold--one could get frostbite being touched by fingers like these. He then turned to his right, another motion of his hand opening a portal in the chilled air.

Vergil felt his heart pound faster at the sight of your familiar form being lowered down from it, face now peaceful in comparison to before. The whale oil no longer stained your cheeks, body cradled by gentle black hands that held you upright. You were beautiful, weren’t you? Strong, resilient. Everything he had needed, everything he had turned away.

Had he swallowed his pride...would you both have been happy? Nero born somewhere safe, Vergil finding the will to let go of his past and accept the love chosen for him. Would he have found peace, solace? Maybe the son of Sparda could have found the will to seek out Dante with something other than malice, to make amends and help build up Devil May Cry. You would have gotten the chance to raise Nero, to give him all the love he deserved. As for Vergil...To teach Nero how to fight with a sword, to be a father...all the possibilities were laid out before him like a cruel joke, one that he deserved to have thrown in his face.

So many things could have been, but those choices were gone now.

The Outsider approached you with Corvo by his side, laying a gentle hand on your cheek and stroking a thumb over your soft skin. He leaned forward, putting his lips by your ear to whisper something softly, to the point that Vergil could barely hear it.

 _“I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me,”_ His voice was gentle, filled with unspoken regrets as he lingered there for a moment with you, “ _And then...well. I still have much to learn about being your father, don’t I?”_

He leaned back, staring at you with calm eyes and an expression of sorrow. They knew damn well what damage had been done to your relationship with him, but...all you had wanted was him to care, to be the parent you had never been allowed, that was very clear. You had it in your heart to forgive your father, that kindness was stronger than anything. 

The God finally stepped away from your resting form, leaving Corvo to stand beside you and place a hand to your head. _He_ was a father through and through, having more than likely played a part in bringing you up alongside the Outsider. To see you find happiness seemed like a relief, especially if he could help bring it about. His hand in things was needed,  bitter as it was. Vergil was grateful he had saved you from more pain.

_No more suffering, no more heartache._

_V will be all that you need, and I--_

_I will set you free._

The Outsider turned back to Vergil, steps careful and measured as he stopped a foot in front of his suspended form. V was quiet again in his head, those sensations of hesitation and worry fading into a dull roar under Vergil’s tormented swirl of emotions. He could still see you there, held up by those hands, oblivious to all that transpired between them. You would never remember loving him first, the pain you suffered in Fortuna, giving birth to your son. Never-- _you would never know Nero is your flesh and blood_ , that little boy you gave up everything for. And worst of all...that was for the best, the only way you could exist without agony and despair breaking you in two. He would take the secret to the grave, carry it as a reminder of all he had wronged and make sure you never found out.

 _Vergil,_ V finally whispered, sounding tired and hesitant as everything else seemed to quiet, fading into background noise, _I...thank you. You are not the same person we were before, and that...is a good thing. For the record...I know you will do right for the next person meant for you, because I can feel how much you loved Y/N. If you can feel that deeply for her after all that transpired...you deserve to be free to love without me there to hurt you._

How could he be kind to Vergil after all the years he spent suppressing his humanity? He had tried to remove V from him entirely, cutting out his humanity like it was nothing but a burden or weakness. And yet...this human half had found kindness and empathy a lot faster than he had, willing to forgive years of stupidity in an instant now that they were being split apart. Seeing something that was once a part of him existing on his own will be strange, but...it would have to be accepted, no matter what.

_Let’s both try to do better next time._

The Outsider raised his hand, placing it on Vergil’s forehead as the howling of the Void grew in intensity, filling the space around him with that all too familiar chill. It started seeping into his bones again, wrapping around the very culmination of his being and making his breaths heave out of his chest. It burned, it froze him inside out until he was certain there would never be warmth again, that this cold would carry with him for years to come. He was lucky you had introduced this energy to his human half, the demonic side was flinching away on instinct. But the Outsider was stronger, able to push past and latch onto both parts of him with absolute ease. Like icy fingers on his heart, lungs, organs. Gripping tight and preparing to pull him in half once more.

And through it all, Vergil stared at you with those icy blue eyes, chest aching with that throb of regret and agony. He memorized this feeling, this need and desire. To stroke your cheeks, to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness he didn’t deserve. The son of Sparda would never feel like this again, not for you. All those memories in Fortuna, of his first kiss, making love, falling in love with you bit by bit...They would be empty, memories there but without any substance. You had made him feel weak, so blessedly weak, and he had craved every moment of it. _God, he had needed it so much_ \--to let go of that felt so gut-wrenchingly painful, so wrong and agonizing. _You were everything, and he was nothing._

And now...now you would be meant for someone else.

_This is the end of our story._

_Isn’t the ocean beautiful, Vergil?_ You gentle voice flickered through his mind, accompanied by a memory of sitting beside you on the beaches of Fortuna. The sunlight had made you glow, smile so soft and filled with affection only for him, _You should take time to relax more often--you’re bound to get wrinkles frowning like that._

_I’m sorry._

_It’ll be okay,_ You whispered that night, stroking his cheek after his nightmare and pressing your lips to his forehead, _I am with you, Vergil. Always. You don’t have to hide your pain from me, you don’t have to be ashamed._

_I failed you. This is what I deserve._

That warmth was dripping down his cheeks again, under the Outsider’s hand and down to his jaw. No sobs accompanied these tears, but that was for the best. He had no place to cry, not after what he had done. This pain was his punishment, and he would remember it till the day death came for him. Even if he found someone new, even if he somehow managed to move on...he would remember what this taught him, how you had showed him a love he didn’t deserve. He was losing you, _his everything_ \--and he would never open his mouth to complain. Not to anyone, never. After those emotions were gone and only the guilt was left behind...the scars would remain for a lifetime, and that was for the best, wasn’t it?

The Outside paused at Vergil’s tears, the God’s silence speaking volumes as he let his hand linger, that cold spreading deeper and deeper until he felt like he was being torn apart inside. Vergil could no longer tell which way was up, could no longer see your sleeping face, beautiful hair, and those lips he once kissed. The blackness was starting to fill him, like the Void itself swallowing whole all that he came to know and accept. 

V wasn’t felt anymore, nothing was. Vergil Sparda became one with the dark, body feeling weightless in the pain and sensations pulling him in every direction at once. This was the end, _this was the end to his story with you._ And it was happening just how he deserved it--bitter, hard to swallow, but with you coming out the other side free of the burden he was. At the end of the day...the only weakness here was him, and you deserved to live with someone who could help you spread those wings.

You could be free. And he would remember where you could not.

 _“Goodbye, Vergil Sparda,”_ The Outsider’s whispers reached him in the darkness, low and full of warning as everything faded away, _“I hope to the Void that I never have to see you again.”_

And with that, came nothingness.

_(Nero POV, Hours Later)_

The white-haired demon hunter hadn’t stopped pacing since they abandoned the search for you both on the beach.

Seeing the ocean swallow you, seeing Vergil plunge into the water right after...his mind had practically went apeshit, Nero slashing his way through a horde of demons to try and help. As soon as Vergil was gone, the demons seemed to give up, taken down easy and crumbling to nothingness under the weight of his and Dante’s strength. The storm eased up too, rain fading to a drizzle and thunder quieting in the distance. What the hell had happened? _What the hell had happened to you?_ He had dead-sprinted for the water, diving in with his uncle in unison to search for any trace of you or his father, but...nothing. No bodies, no sight of you floating down there or the fiery blue form of Vergil. Something had taken you both, and Nero had an idea of who it was.

Your Deity had played a part in this.

After hours of searching, Kyrie had begged them both to return home. And honestly...what else could they do but listen to her requests? Chilled to the bone, soaked and exhausted from fighting and searching... Nero felt awful, like he had somehow failed you. The boy had sworn that he would keep you safe, but was helpless in watching that fucking asshole snatch you and his father away. As for your familiars...they were even bigger messes than he was. Griffon and the others had went into a blind panic, screeching for you and circling the ocean for hours to find even a trace before Kyrie forced them all to wait on the deck. And that just made shit sadder--they claimed they couldn’t feel you, but the connection was still there. 

Shadow hadn’t moved from their spot, staring out at the ocean with sorrowful eyes and drooping ears. Griffon sat on their back looking forlorn, his gold eyes anxiously scanning the line of sand like he would somehow see you there. And Nightmare...he sat down nearby on the sand, shoulders hunched forward and completely silent. All three felt like even bigger failures than Nero--they were your _familiars_ , damn it. It was their job to keep you safe, but they’d been useless too. Now all they could do was wait and hope, which wasn’t much to be honest. 

Dante was the one who set about trying to form a game plan, silently furious at the prospect of losing his brother and you at the same time. He called Trish and Lady over to help, contacting Morrison in the hopes of getting information on your God. But...the reigning fact was not much could be done without knowing his name, and that was the one thing you hid from the familiars. Morrison was trying to find shit out through books, looking up things on black eyes and the Void. They hadn’t heard much back, so it was now a waiting game, one that Nero didn’t particularly care for. Things were much easier when he had a target he could punch or shoot at, and in this case…

_They had nothing._

Cut to present time, the sky now dark and Nero still pacing the kitchen with measured steps. Kyrie sat at the dining room table with her head resting on her arms, Nico stroking her back from time to time. Christ, there was a sense of dread in the air. The kids had, luckily, not caught wind that you were gone. Lady and Trish had kept them busy while the other adults talked, all the way up until they went to bed and still giving them their little camp out. They could sense something was wrong, but not know what--And each one was smart enough not to ask. Nero felt awful about their worry, but...there was not really any other choices left.

It was already going on ten o’clock, his legs starting to feel tired from the pacing. He leaned against a nearby wall, the cool air from outside blowing through the open door to the deck where Trish stood keeping watch with the familiars. How long were they supposed to wait? What if you and Vergil never came back? The very thought made him squeeze a fist tight enough to crack bone, jaw tight and uncomfortable. You were family, _his family_ , and they all loved and cared about you. Honestly you and Nico were the closest things to sisters he was ever going to get, and that was enough for him. Nero wanted you home, they all did. And if that wasn’t going to happen on its own...he was willing to kick his way into the Void if need be.

“Shit, this sucks…” Nico croaked from the table, making him turn to see her flop down with a low thunk of her head on the wood, “What are we supposed to do? She said that jerk used to erase her memories...what if he does that?”

Nico was already going worse case scenario, which he understood. They had spent the past few hours reasoning and hoping, despair was starting to set in. 

The only one who seemed to remain steadfast in her faith was, understandably, Kyrie. She lifted her head from the table, those brown eyes soft and determined as she took one of Nico’s hands in her own.

“She will come home,” She said quietly, but firmly, turning to look at Nero where he stood nearby, “We have to believe in that, believe in her. She would never go quietly, not after everything that has happened.”

He knew that, they all did. These months of living together and working toward letting go of what happened in the Qliphoth tree had taught Nero just how resilient you could be. It would be downright disrespectful to throw in the towel this early on, to give up on you coming home. Morrison would find something out, he had to--and when that call came, they would enter the Void guns blazing if need be. Nero had fought something close to a god before, hadn’t he? He would curb stomp the bastard if it meant getting you home, making Kyrie smile and everyone happy again.

“Vergil isn’t the type to go quietly either,” Dante muttered from his spot standing by the phone, brow furrowed and arms crossed stiffly over his chest. Nero glanced at him, frowning as the older man continued, “Which could be both a bad and good thing. This God is arrogant, self-assured--he’s had a game plan from the start, it’s just shit that we don’t know it.”

Nero let out a light grunt of agreement, running a hand through his white hair as he sighed, “Y/N seemed reluctant to talk about him, she didn’t know his plans either in the long scheme of things and especially not after what he did in the tree.”

He remembered your recollection of that day, having been forced to stand prone by the Deity while V absorbed back into Urizen. The half-demon had noticed something was wrong, had found it odd that you were sitting back and letting V do something so dangerous without bouncing in to stop him. One glance at your face had revealed you pale and face blank, sweat dotting your brow like morning dew. Something had been wrong, but they was so much going on at the time that he didn’t know what to do, how to help. The rest had fallen to pieces, and he was left regretting not stepping in. The God had been there with you, holding you down like some monster and leaving you in desperation and terror. Nero should have done something, anything.

_But that was the past._

_Now he was left waiting again. Helpless. And that didn’t feel right at all._

Nero let out an aggravated sigh, pushing off from the wall to start pacing again. He could feel Kyrie’s worried eyes on him, watching as he walked to the door and looked out along the beach. Like checking again would somehow change anything. The silence was heavy and stifling, sky now clear enough to showcase the stars above Fortuna in all their glory. Far too calm despite all that had gone down. The familiars had not moved from their posts, seeming glum and tired as they kept their eyes on the beach. Nero hated admitting it, but he felt bad for them--this had to be worrisome considering how dependent they were on you.

Griffon let out a low trill when the silence persisted, his sapphire feathers shuddering and showcasing all those glowing marks woven between as he muttered, “Shoulda done somethin, shoulda been faster. We said we’d keep her safe, but choked at the follow through,” He sounded forlorn, tail feathers drooping pitifully as he closed his golden eyes, “She was afraid something bad was gonna happen and I told her not to worry, like a fucking _idiot._ ”

Your instincts had always been keen, there was no denying that. Now that Nero put some thought into it...things had worked out far too conveniently. 

He blew some air out from between his cheeks, leaning against the door frame to the kitchen as he replied, “Stupid is in your blood, chicken. You did come from Vergil, after all.”

Well, that certainly ruffled his feathers. Griffon puffed up in instant annoyance, glaring daggers at the white-haired boy as he snapped, “Is that your idea of comforting someone, slim? You are really bad at this shit, you know that right?”

Nero let out a slow, heavy sigh, looking away and scratching the back of his neck. Yeah, he knew pretty damn well that emotional support wasn’t his best feature. It was a lot easier when it came to Kyrie, she always knew exactly what people needed to hear and said it with enough faith and certainty to put her point across. He was a lot rougher around the edges, finding it easier to fight and protect people that way rather than with words. Maybe that’s why Kyrie evened him out so well?

Regardless.

“...I think that God would have taken her even if you had been attached at the hip,” He reasoned after a brief moment of silence, broken only by the sounds of the ocean rolling over the sandy beach, “That bastard would have ripped you off of Y/N in an instant. So...don’t beat yourself up too bad, chicken.”

Griffon paused at that, probably not expecting anything remotely resembling kind words to come from Nero’s mouth. On the ground, Shadow’s ears flicked upwards for a moment, mourning eyes drifting to the demon-hunter’s face.

The bird finally sighed, looking away toward the ocean and settling into his own feathers a bit, “Maybe,” He muttered, sounding glum and irritable, “But we wouldn’t have known until we tried.”

_And that’s all we could have done--tried._

Nero let out another slow breath, turning to look back in the kitchen and leave the familiars to their musings. Talking wasn’t helping anyone. Well...at least not for him--Dante was back to theorizing with Lady and Trish at the table, a book open between them depicting stories of ancient beings and legends spoken by demonologists and religious nuts alike.

None spoke of anything close enough to you worth sticking to, your powers far too spread across several spectrums and different words and phrasing used for each one. The “Void” was a common term for so many things, some ranging from hell to purgatory, the latter sounding closer to what you described according to the ladies. _The Void is a place where broken souls go when they die._ Problem was nothing really mentioned that to such fine details.

As for your “God”...well, everyone was looking for a name. You not being able to describe him when last you spoke of him hadn’t helped, so they were at a standstill as to who he could be. Not of any legend or part of mythology Dante knew the specifics on. He had sensed your power when he met you, telling right away that you were the follower of a God that did not align himself with good or evil. Something dark and chaotic, mischievous--he had met beings like that before, ones who prided themselves on simply seeking entertainment and manipulation of human souls. Regardless, he had guessed right that the God didn’t come from any part of the known realms he was familiar with. The sensation that came when that portal had opened to grab you was one of darkness, the cold. Not demonic, not angelic. Something...else.

_But where is this place, and how can we get there?_

“You think we should perform a ritual even when we do find out?” Trish sounded displeased, lips drawn in a firm frown as she stared at Dante’s face, “I don’t trust this creature, it’s a risk we can’t take.”

“You’re preaching to the choir, Trish,” Dante huffed in response, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms over his chest. Now dressed in his own clothes, especially considering the ones he borrowed from Nero had been soaking wet after their searching in the rain, “You think I’m not ready to tango with a God? He doesn’t impress me with these little parlor tricks of his.”

“Oh I know-- _And that’s exactly what I’’m afraid of.”_

Dante clicked his tongue at Trish’s heavily annoyed tone, looking away and rubbing a hand over his unshaven jaw. She wasn’t having any of his brazen, hot-headed stunts that day it would seem. Nero hated that he wanted to side with Dante, but the devil hunter was raring to go and put some action to this situation. If this God wanted to play ball, he was more than willing to come in swinging. And kicking. _And shooting._ Sitting back and waiting for things to change was making him irritable now, so if they didn’t come up with something...well, dangerous or not, if a lead came they had to take it. They owed it to you to at least try.

But...it would seem no ritual would be needed. 

Something...felt off. It was getting colder, the air taking on a strange chill despite how warm it had been during the day. It made Nero freeze, looking quickly at his uncle and seeing a similar realization echoing in his eyes. He felt that too, didn’t he? That eerie feeling, like something cold and dark was trying to--

_“Dante…! Nero!”_

Griffon’s frantic screech made everyone look up, seeing the bird start flapping his wings and staring up at the sky with alarmed eyes. Shadow skidded to their feet, a roaring ripping its way from their throat as they took off out of sight, paws pounding into sand and faster than a bullet. Every person in the room stood in an instant, rushing outside to see exactly what had gotten the creature’s attention--but Nero already had a guess. 

He had felt it in the air right as the bird spoke, the temperature started dropping rapidly and a prickle of energy had tapped its way along his spine. A similar feeling to how your powers felt when activated, but far stronger and stiffing. He took off out the door before everyone else, one hand already gripping the handle of the Red Queen before he had even lifted his eyes to the sky.

Something broke the clear night air, a fissure that extended like a black fracture between the stars and clouds. It was unnerving--resembling the jagged edges of a sadistic smile, its maw partially opened and leaking out a cold that did not belong in the waking world. Nero felt his heart rate speed up with the prospect of battle, hairs standing up on the back of his neck as hands started to creep their way out of the portal. There was no hesitation, he and Dante took off at the same breakneck speed down the beach with their feet digging into the sand, Griffon sailing on sapphire wings right beside them. Lady and Trish followed as quickly as they could manage, Trish yelling to Nico and Kyrie to stay behind where it was safe. That was for the best, none of them knew what they were dealing with at that moment. 

Dante skidded to a halt mere feet from the portal above, eyes sharp and attentive as a few more black, crystalline appendages weaved their way into the air. Both men had swords raised, in fighting stances like they were preparing for war. To be honest, the God’s level of unpredictability was part of the issue--if he couldn’t be understood, then no chances could be taken. But...the arms were not making any motions to attack, merely drifting and twitching without rhyme or reason in the night air. Nero exchanged a quick look with his uncle when a lack of violence persisted, a low hum of energy and whispers filling the space around them. Like a thousand voices where speaking in hushed voices, but making no sense.

Nero didn’t have the patience for the otherworldly shit. And neither did Dante.

“Not showing your face this time?” The older man taunted loudly to the open portal, taking a step forward and holding out his hands in challenge, “This theatrical shit ain’t my shtick, so let’s get to the show already…!”

His words were met with silence, only broken by the low whispers and the howling of wind. Griffon landed on Shadow’s back, both familiars staring up at the sky with desperation, a hint of hope and despair. This was the only sign they had received since you were taken, and it was more than they had hours ago. Nero was prepared to launch into the portal if he needed to, not willing to let this opportunity pass up with so much on the line. You were family now, and contrary to what he wanted and felt... so was Vergil. He wasn’t about to let some smug god take away his closure, his ability to tell that spiky-haired bastard exactly what he felt. And if that meant plunging into the unknown...he would do it, for you, for the kids, for Kyrie. She knew he could handle it, knew he always came back to her.

_She trusts me. She always has._

The hands from the portal twitched before he could even begin readying himself, gripping the jagged edges of emptiness like they could somehow pry them open wider. Which they did--the portal opened several inches, exposing more of the dark to their eyes and sending the temperature down several degrees. Cold enough that Nero could see his breath, goosebumps rising on the flesh of his exposed arms. The appendages glittered like obsidian, holding there without moving another inch and seeming oblivious to the men down below. Shadow let out a low growl at Nero’s feet, baring their teeth skywards in a threatening manner. He doubted the two had any patience left to give either, not with their lives ridding on yours.

Griffon extended his wings, feathers rippling like he was contemplating flying up into the portal himself. A risky move, one that Nero knew you would not want happening. But there would be no need, not when something new started to slip out of the inky darkness above their heads.

_That’s--_

Both Nero and Dante gasped when a body fell out from the blackness above, landing limply on the sand in a flash of white hair and a familiar black and blue jacket-- _Vergil_. He was unconscious again, but not looking hurt in the slightest save for his hair being messed up and discoloration in his cheeks. Dante didn’t hesitate like Nero did--he rushed forward in an instant, gripping the man by his coat to drag him away from the Void portal and not seeming hindered despite how heavy the half-demon was. Vergil let out a low grunt at the motion, head lolling to the side as he was rolled over and propped up into an awkward sitting position. 

He looked alright, didn’t he? Just exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and hair draping down in messy pieces from his usual hairstyle.

“Vergil…!” Dante exclaimed, looking worried as he shook his brother by the shoulders and looked him over for wounds, “Talk to me, Verg--you alright? Can you hear me?”

Vergil let out a low groan, the sound raw and raspy. As if he had inhaled shards of glass, or had been screaming for hours. Nero watched in worry as he blinked his icy blue eyes slowly, seeming dazed and confused of his surroundings and… _volatile, uneasy._ Seeing such emotion on the stoic man felt strange, incredibly off. He watched as his father gripped Dante’s shirt for a moment, like he was testing the solidity of it, and stared at his brother as if he was several miles away. Even Dante seemed surprised by his siblings expression, more worry taking away his usually bemused demeanor and one of his hands resting on Vergil’s shoulder.

“Hey--you alright?” He repeated, firmer this time as he pinched a part of Vergil’s cheek, “Up and at ‘em, brother. We need to know what happened in there.”

Vergil swatted his hand away, the annoyance flickering across his expression more in tune to how he usually was. He turned away, resting one hand on the sand and taking slow, measured breathes through his teeth. 

_Is he okay?_

“I...I am undecided on how I feel at the moment,” He muttered hoarsely, pressing his fingers to his temple and closing those tired eyes again, “And I...I…”

He trailed off, lifting his head to instead gaze up at the portal above with apprehension and a million other emotions on his face. Fear, anger, regret, sorrow, remorse...was that what Nero was seeing? Certainly not on Vergil, the cold and cocky man who seemed to feel nothing after causing the calamity in Red Grave, after discovering he had _a fucking son._ It was almost insulting to see such a level of emotion now, but it was far too tempered by his own shock and worry to be even remotely stinging. He lifted his eyes too, just in enough time to see more black, obsidian arms reaching out of the portal, but...this time they brought another body with them.

_Oh thank God._

Griffon and Shadow let out varying sounds of relief and delight at the sight of you wrapped in those black arms, the bird springing up and meeting them halfway so he could anxiously press his beak to your face. You were unconscious too, skin pale and hair draped around your cheeks as the hands brought you gingerly to the floor. Far more carefully that they had with Vergil, who had been practically tossed out onto the sand. 

Nero dropped the Red Queen instantly, lurching forward so he could put out his arms underneath you before your body touched the ground. _Thank the Gods in heaven_ , you weren’t injured either--still breathing, heart still beating, but feeling chilled to the bone after your time in the Void. Nero let out a sigh of relief, crouching down at Shadow’s insistent cries to the cat could lick frantically at your face and hair.

_They’re both fine--they’re both fine and alive._

_“Toots…!”_ Griffon cawed in something close to a sob, hovering around you with worried eyes and feathers puffed out, “Is she okay? We can’t see what happened-- _everything in her head feels messed with…!”_

 _Messed with?_ The God didn’t erase your memory, did he? That made Nero frown, unable to tell if anything had been taken just by looking at you. But what was the point of erasing your memories just to give you back?

“She good?” Dante asked, peering over Nero’s shoulder worriedly so he too could look at your face.

Nero paused, watching as Griffon landed on the ground nearby and pressed his beak into your limp, cold hand, “She’s freezing, but that’s to be expected,” The white-haired boy lifted his eyes upwards, noting that the portal still had not closed despite depositing the two people they had been looking for, “What the hell was the point of this? Yanking them in only to give them back unharmed hours later? I don’t get it.”

Vergil let out a bitter, bark of a laugh at Nero’s words, making both he and Dante turn to look at him. The older male was leaning forward on the beach, one hand bracing him while the other pressed to his temple like someone had cracked him over the skull. Something his son had said seemed bitterly amusing to him, the expression tempered with exhaustion and...what was that look? So faraway, so unlike the proud bastard to wear remorse on his sleeve in such a manner. 

_What the hell had happened to him in there?_

“The Outsider...got exactly what he desired,” Vergil whispered, lifting his fingers away so he could give them a light flex, “Everything played out exactly as he wanted it. There was no reason to keep us--it was never about that in the first place. And it feels...so very odd...very...”

His words trailed off, so low that it was almost impossible to hear. But Nero caught the back end of it, or at least what his ears thought they had translated from the jumbled mess that broke from Vergil’s lips.

_“...Empty…”_

_Empty? What did he mean by that?_

_And what the hell is “the Outsider”?_

Was that the God’s name, the one they had spent so long trying to figure out? So unassuming, something he never would have guessed. It was a bit mysterious and annoying too, absolutely fitting of this creature who became a steady thorn in everyone’s sides.

But that was a thought for another time. What the half-demon said was far more concerning to Nero.

Dante seemed troubled as well, putting an arm slowly around Vergil’s waist to help him up off of the ground, “Come on, you’re disoriented right now. We’d better get them inside, Nero,” He looked at you, still in the boy’s arms and showing no sign of waking, “We can ask questions tomorrow, neither of them are in any shape to answer anything.”

Much to Nero’s shock, Vergil did not protest his brother’s help. He let the other male lift him up, head still lowered and a look of exhaustion in his eyes. There was a conflicted tone in his expression, lacking the usual anger or pride that came with taking Dante’s assistance with anything. And he wasn’t oblivious to it--the seasoned devil hunter looked even more worried, pausing for a moment like he was waiting for Vergil to push him away, or maybe a snide remark about how he could “do it on his own”. No such thing came, and that was pretty unsettling to say the least. 

All they could do now was go home and try to piece together what had happened. Something big must have gone down to unsettle Vergil so heavily, to stomp down his pride and anger until something broken remained. Nero hated to admit how worried he was about his old man, but the sensation was there and growing. This incident was done, and he wanted nothing more than to go back to the orphanage and leave the mystery until morning reared its head the next day. 

But the portal was still open. 

And it was not done yet.

Nero had told himself that if it continued to remain open they would have someone keep watch, that it could be dealt with after making sure both of you were safe. He didn’t know what could be done, but leaving it to linger on the beaches of Fortuna wasn’t an option, especially not with the kids in the orphanage being so close. Morrison was still doing his research, they could try using the Yamato if needed to close it and bring so peace for a little while at least.

But...a crackling sound made them both turn, confusion in Nero’s expression as he saw the hands twitch and rotate in the portal above. A few retreated back, some lingering the keep it wide open enough to allow a person through. For a brief, horrifying moment Nero thought the “Outsider” would come out of it himself, to speak with his cursed lips or attack them while their guard was down.

But no…what did come out of the portal was far more jarring.

_What the hell…? What the hell is that?_

Nero felt himself tense up in shock and disbelief as another body started being lowered down by the hands of dark crystal. Recognition was working its way into the chorus of emotions in the boy’s head, skidding everything to a confused halt as he took in this new person’s appearance. He saw a flash of white hair draping in front of an all too familiar face, long arms dangling limply down from a naked body barely covered by the modesty of the hands. Pale skin, scars lining his shoulder from when the horseman attacked him all those months ago in Red grave. There was no way- _-There was no fucking way, that is impossible._ The boy couldn’t believe his eyes, even when the hands laid the familiar body gently down onto the sand, his nude form easy to spot in the moonlight and laying on his stomach with his head tilted to the side. Allowing them both to see his face, but hiding the parts of him they’d rather not see.

_That’s impossible--_

_He can’t be here, can he?_

But there was no mistaking the man Nero had traveled and spoken with all those months ago. The image of his face had not faded in the slightest.

_V was laying lying on the beach._

The hands set him down gently, retreating back into the portal and leaving his unconscious form to rest on the sands with that white hair drifting ever so slightly. The fingers gripping the portal to hold it open finally let go, the jagged maw snapping shut with a crack that rang through the night air. Slowly, painfully so, the edges of the portal fused together until it disappeared into nothing, a warm breeze washing away the cold it had brought moments prior. 

The whispering was gone, the howling was gone, and all that was left in its wake was the blissful sound of rolling waves and the gentle thrum of the wind chimes the children had hung a few weeks ago around the deck. Neither made things feel any less chaotic--Nero looked between Vergil and the man on the beach in an almost comedic fashion, watching as his father turned to glance back at V with his own expression of recognition. And of clarity. 

He knew exactly who it was lying there, and didn’t seemed shocked in the slightest. Nor did he seem...incomplete, like Urizen was still absent and no longer split in two. No, Vergil seemed like his usual self minus the exhaustion and the complete whirlwind of emotion he was expressing. In fact, the only thing he seemed to show other than tiredness when looking at V was...satisfaction? Relief? Tinged with his remorse and guilt, one that did not fade as he lowered his head once more, eyes closing like everything had finally reached its conclusion. Dante was staring in absolute shock as well, a muscle twitching in his jaw as those gears in his brain tried to work out just what the hell was going on.

_What the fuck happened in there?_

_How is he HERE?_

_How is this possible?_

_“Holy fucking shit…!_ ” Griffon whispered in front of them both, reminding Nero that he and the big cat existed, “Is that...is that _Shakespeare?!”_

Shadow stared with wide eyes as well, ears pressing flat against their skull and now silent in the face of all the madness. Griffon exchanged a long glance with Dante, both seeming at a loss for words with V’s body lying there on the sand with no one knowing just how the fuck it was possible. There was no mistaking it though--that was V, in the flesh on the sands of Fortuna but without his tattoos or black hair. It made sense, the familiars were no longer connected to him after he went back into Vergil’s body. Nero couldn’t wrap his head around anything anymore, not a damn bit of it. All he knew was something had happened in the Void, and now Vergil was a trainwreck, and V was somehow alive as well.

While Vergil was still in existence.

_Holy fuck, this is insane._

“ _How the fuck is this possible_?” Nero hissed, turning to level his gaze on Vergil’s lowered face and feeling his anger spike back again. What were they supposed to think, to trust? How could his father be here while his human half was separated again?

Vergil let out a low sigh, opening his eyes so he could shift them over and stare at his son. He flinched for a moment, grimacing like Nero had reached out and slapped him and wearing a look on his face the boy didn’t...understand. _Why is he looking at me like that? Like just staring at me is complete agony._ Guilt was back again, a realization that made Vergil look a thousand times more tired than he did before. No more condescending stares, no more cocky attitude...Vergil was looking at his son like a man who had failed him in every single way.

And that...that was even more unsettling. 

_It hurt, he didn’t like it._

“...The Outsider has a way of getting what he wants,” Vergil replied, low and hoarse as he held Nero’s confused gaze, “All of this was to...punish me, and to return V back to Y/N without me losing my humanity. He...simply made it so my humanity was rebuilt anew, and took V’s half-soul and made it a full one of his own.”

Was... _was all of that really possible?_ Nero felt disbelief slipping onto his expression, but Vergil didn’t sound like he was lying. It would make sense as to why he was so messed up, anyone would be if they had their soul rearranged and altered in such a manner. Maybe what Nero saw as guilt was merely his father feeling unsettled, confused and messed up by the apparent punishments he received while in the Void. There were so many questions to ask, but this was not the time to do any of that--Not with everyone so on edge, not with Vergil looking like he was on the verge of falling over and passing out again.

Nero needed to stay level-headed, focused.

“Son of a bitch…!” He cursed, pulling his gaze away from his father and looking at Dante, “What the hell should we do? Is that possible?”

Dante blew out some air from between his cheeks, frowning and deep in thought as he replied, “With a God like this one? Sure is,” He turned away from the confusion boy, yelling to Trish and Lady staring from their defensive positions a few feet back. Both looked like they were in varying stages of shock, looking between you, Vergil, and V and at a loss for words, “ _Care to lend a hand?_ Nero, give them Y/N and carry V to the house for me--we can figure shit out later, I gotta call Morrison.”

Lady and Trish jolted when spoken to, exchanging a brief glance before putting their weapons away and rushing forward to help. Nero handed you to Lady easily enough, the woman not hindered by your weight in the slightest and just looking relieved to have you back. He felt the same way, but damn if he wasn’t at a loss for words right now. Griffon and Shadow followed both women when they rushed you back to the house, Kyrie and Nico meeting them halfway with cries of delight and joy. 

Seeing his wife so happy for your return made everything worth it--he could worry about the confusing shit at another time. They couldn’t very well leave V alone and nude on the beach overnight, that would be cruel despite all that had happened. Contrary to how his father seemed, V had been his better half, his humanity. Despite Nero’s doubts...being angry could wait.

So he nodded at Dante, turning his back and heading toward V’s prone form and shrugging off his coat in the process. The former goth  was certainly out like a light, there was no denying that. But he looked...better than he did before. No longer carrying dark circles under his eyes, pallor more of a normal pale than the sickly one he carried whilst limping his way around the Qliphoth. Nero thought he would never see the poet again, so doing so now was...very odd, unsettling in a way. V’s black vest and slacks were long gone, it would seem, naked as the day he was born--wait, _was V born_? This was getting SO confusing. 

Nero shook his head, sighing as he rolled the poet over and draping the coat over him in one fluid motion. No offense to the guy, but he’d rather not carry him around with his dick out for all to see--nothing personal. Only then did he lift V up, noting that he pretty much weighed the same as the last time Nero had carried him. On the way to Urizen, holding up the poet’s form with one arm as they walked and spoke of who the demon was. All those half truths were pretty aggravating in retrospect. V had only given him enough of the story to make it sound believable, conveniently leaving out how he himself half also been Vergil too. Typical.

Regardless.

It was a quick trek back to the house, one filled with unanswered questions that hung in the air and weighed him down at the same time. Did...did you know that V was back? What did it mean for Vergil now that his human half had been removed and changed? You had loved V so much, to the point that your love extended to Vergil too despite how much you tried to deny it. Nero had seen it in your eyes the instant his father returned, a deep ache that refused to quit no matter how much you reasoned through it. But now...everything would change, everything. Hell, what did this make V in relation to him? A second father? An uncle? Brother? _Christ, everything was a mess._

He tried to ignore it as he carried V inside, Trish closing the door behind him with an absolutely incredulous look. Nero didn’t blame her--he felt the same way.

He looked gazed the kitchen, not seeing his wife nor Lady in the warm glow of the light overhead. Vergil was sitting at the dining table, head held up only by his hands and quiet as a mouse. Those blue eyes didn’t open even when Nero came in, the man looking like an absolute mess all things considered. He would have to be focused on later.

“Where’s Kyrie?” Nero asked Dante, who was standing by the phone on the wall and patiently waiting on the line for Morrison, most likely.

The grizzled man pointed upwards, signals read loud and clear as he covered the mouthpiece of the phone in hand, “They took the kid to her room--I told her to bring down a few sheets for V as well, ‘cause no offense...I don’t wanna tackle dressing him.”

That was completely fair and understandable. Nero didn’t want to do that either.

Speaking of his wife, she came back downstairs in that moment, looking a bit frazzled and clutching a bundle of sheets wrapped around a pillow. Everything had grown incredibly chaotic in the past few hours, even Kyrie had her limits of where level-headedness failed to solve problems. She very carefully made sure not to look at V’s body as she followed Nero into the garage, placing the poet down on the cot and taking the items from her hands a moment later. Precious, adorable woman was trying so hard to protect V’s modesty, red cheeks and eyes making sure to look away until Nero had placed both sheets over his body, pillow under his head. 

“It’s safe to look,” He told her, holding a hand on her cheek and stroking his thumb on that soft, familiar skin, “I’m sorry about everything that’s going on, babe...shit has gone completely off the rails.”

She smiled at that, meeting his anxious eyes with her own warm, brown orbs. A light kiss to his lips followed, taking with it all his fears and worries in an instant like a breath of fresh air.

“Don’t worry,” She promised, turning to finally look down at V’s sleeping face with curious eyes, “I’ve never seen him before...but Y/N talked about him a lot. V is truly special to her, and now...now he’s back. And that...that’s what matters, we can figure everything out as we go.”

He nodded at her words, taking solace in how steady and reasonable she sounded. Always the voice of reason, his shelter in the storm. Things always worked out when Kyrie made them so, and he would hold faith to that despite how batshit insane everything seemed. 

Focus on the good for now, the rest would fall into place.

So, he kissed her hand, standing in the doorway and watching as she walked back into the kitchen to survey how everyone was doing. Trish was sitting at the table trying to question Vergil, getting barely anything resembling responses while Dante talked over what happened with Morrison over the phone. Nero still felt...uneasy about how his father was doing, watching as Vergil practically peeled his eyes open to stare in exhaustion at Trish’s annoyed face. The poor guy looked like he needed a round of shots and then some--there was no telling what kind of punishments a god could put in place for a man like him. Whatever had happened left him without the energy to even banter with Dante, left him...guilty.

Kyrie wasn’t oblivious to any of it either. She paused by the coffee table, eyes understandably concerned as she graced Vergil with that caring expression of hers. Kyrie was such a fucking angel, far better a person than Nero--despite all his father had done, to him and others...she was still willing to help, to try and ease his suffering. The only reason Nero hadn’t kicked Vergil’s ass again was due to his wife talking him down from that anger, reasoning out why he should try and talk to this man who was his father. Kyrie was so good, a shining light in comparison to both Nero and Vergil in kind. And he couldn’t talk her out of that kindness, even for those who didn’t deserve it.

It was why Nero held his tongue while Kyrie paused, hesitating as she stared at Vergil’s face like those motherly instincts were battling with the reasoning inside her head. But, as always, kindness would always be the victory in these types of inner conflicts. A second later, she inhaled, putting on her most gentle, hesitant voice as she placed a hand on the table to get Vergil’s attention.

“Mister Vergil?” She asked, smiling softly when his father tilted his gaze in her direction with a hint of surprise, “Would you like some tea? I have herbal remedies that might make you feel better, you must be very tired.”

_Say one mean thing to my wife, and you’re dead meat._

Nero stiffened, narrowing his eyes at Vergil as he waited for a response. Kyrie’s kindness aside, he was more than ready to punt the man out the door for her sake even if he was going through some rough shit. She always took priority, and anyone without manners didn’t belong in their house anyway.

But...Vergil managed to shock him again.

He merely closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath and running a hand through his messed up hair. Tone tired, voice heavy and hoarse as he replied quietly to her question.

“If it doesn’t burden you...then I wouldn’t mind some tea.”

Cue shocked stares from Trish, Nero, and Dante in kind. Vergil’s brother especially, his mouth popped open in surprise and eyes practically burning a hole into the man’s back. Out of everyone in the room, the devil hunter knew Vergil the most, so this must have been incredibly out of character, to be even remotely polite in any circumstance. But...Kyrie didn’t seem to mind, looking downright tickled pink as she nodded and turned toward the stove, putting the kettle on to boil and searching for their tea set in the cupboard. Damn, things were just growing more and more confusing, weren’t they? A downright mess, one that had been preparing to blow up after months of peace and quiet for all of them. 

But...Nero looked back at V’s peaceful face, his chest rising and falling with slow, even breaths. He looked at his father, seeing a change in him that was far beyond what anyone could comprehend. Everyone was back together, alive, whole. And you would get the love of your life back, after all these months of pain and suffering. He didn’t know what the God did, what transpired during those hours of time only you and Vergil had experienced. 

Regardless of all those uncertainties...he found himself far more relieved and happy than anything else. And if things tried to fall apart again…

Well. Then they would fix it.

_(Your POV, the next Day)_

_Something...something is missing._

_Something was taken._

_Something was gone._

You had your memories altered frequently enough to know what your head had been fucked with. The sensation was unmistakable, more familiar than anything else as you started pulling yourself out of unconsciousness bit by bit. Back in that damned, dark pool of water again, the same one that weighed down your limbs and fogged out everything else. There were so many questions, so many swirling thoughts that constricted your mind like the flow of water. _What had happened while in the Void with Vergil?_ Everything was so fuzzy after the second trial, cutting off abruptly after the Outsider started changing things over. Why couldn’t you remember? Did Vergil fail the third trial, is that why your head had been altered? For a brief, fleeting moment of panic that was the conclusion you drew, scrambling to pull yourself out of the darkness and back into waking once more. 

_Get up, we have to do something._

Everything was so god damn heavy. It was like trying to yank your limbs out of mud, one appendage at a time, finger by finger. Waking came in bits and pieces, some faster than others, some slow and agonizingly patient. The sensation of warmth came first, a far cry from the Void despite that chill still lingering in your bones and limbs. Not that much time had passed, then--but the fact that you were no longer in the Void was startling enough. Or...was this another illusion, one brought about to make you feel a strange sense of comfort? You thought that living in the Void long enough gave you a good sense of reality, but...those trials had shaken your confidence a bit more than you’d care to admit. 

That uncertainty continued even as you regained feelings one by one, recognizing the softness of your own comforter under your shoulders and fingertips. _My room?_ The taste of salt water was in the air, the sound of billowing curtains reaching your ears as the muffled feeling of being underwater faded away. Was it morning? How had you gotten home? And when? The breeze felt so real, so unbelievably welcome as it washed over your skin like a gentle caress. Illusion or not, you could have wept at the familiarity of your home, the sanctuary of your bedroom. It was on that comfort alone that you willed your eyes to open, flinching at the sunlight and lifting a hand to shield yourself from the glare.

_Home...you were home._

You breathed slowly in and out as you watched the white curtains flow on the breeze, light and airy as they drifted above your bed. Dust motes danced in the sun’s rays, barely visible to the naked eye, but there nonetheless. Was...was this real? Were you really back, safe and sound? But...what about Vergil? 

_Wait...something was off._

Worry...you were worried about Vergil, wanted to make sure he was safe after the ordeal he went through. The trauma of his mother’s death, of seeing the truths he fought so long to ignore... _was he okay, after all of those terrible things?_ You still felt concerned about him, mind swirling with questions that weren’t answered. But...why did this feel off, different? Lacking its weight, lacking the spark it had before.

You waited for that sensation to return at the thought of him, that deep ache in your chest that longed for his touch and affections. Because V was a part of the surly man, and you longed to have him back even if it meant learning to love Vergil too. But.. _.nothing came?_ You blinked, breath catching in your lungs as you searched inside yourself for those feelings, for that deep desire that had driven your emotions and actions for so many months. But...when you thought of Vergil, it felt strangely... _disconnected_. The worry for his well being existed, you still cared about his safety and his traumas after what happened...but something was very lacking, and you couldn’t figure out what.

That love for V was still there, thinking of him still made you ache and crave and hurt terribly. That was stronger than ever, a flame that would never go out inside of you for as long as you lived. If you were still in love with your poet, why did everything with Vergil feel so off now? Maybe...maybe that was what the Outsider altered, alongside your memories? But...he couldn’t have done such a thing, it would never benefit anything for either parties. The thought made your panic grow deeper, heartbeat speeding up at the idea of not being able to love V in his new form, the only opportunity you would get to have him again. Even if the son of Sparda had hurt you, even if he was cruel...you wanted to try, and that was never a choice you had wanted taken away.

Feeling that way felt so empty compared to before, lacking the conviction and focus. _No reason to now,_ your mind told you, shrugging it all off like it was nothing. _Didn’t it matter? Didn’t you want it to?_

_This should matter, shouldn’t it?_

 You bit down on the confusing sensations, sitting up slowly and pressing a hand to your head. Upon further inspection, you were still wearing your clothes from the previous day, but the cuts on your arms were now gone. A frown marred your lips as you inspected them, lifting your palms to search for any trace of soot or ash from the fire--nothing, like none of the trials had even happened. There was no way all of it had been a dream, of that you were certain. The pain had been real, that raw, aching emotion. Your Deity had a hand in all of this, down to the last detail--you just didn’t know what he hoped to gain. It hurt to think of how complicated your relation with him had become, your father figure and only parent to speak of. He cared about you, didn’t he? It seemed like he did, at least from what memory you had. 

_Christ, my head is all messed up._

You quickly surveyed your room, feeling a bit surprised at the sight of Lady asleep in an armchair, one tucked away near the steps leading up. _When had she gotten here?_ The woman certainly looked...real. Leaning her head on one hand, lips parted with light breaths and wearing a tank top with black shorts. The sun made beautiful patterns on her thighs, dancing and swaying each time the curtains billowed. You hadn’t seen her in a month, having spoken and caught up during a visit to the orphanage not that long ago. Tears sprang to your eyes, heart aching now that she was there again like a life preserver in the sea of uncertainty. Waking up alone would have been awful in that moment, but...you realized that wouldn’t have been the case either.

Sitting up jostled a familiar cat-shape next to you, Shadow yawning and looking up at your face with bleary eyes. You breathed out a sigh of relief, hugging your arms around the demon and feeling that comforting purr in response--thank god, _thank god._ Real, solid, _not an illusion._ They felt happy to see you as well, seemingly unharmed by your time disconnected from them, which was a relief all its own. That connection was now loud and clear, a soundless cry and happiness coming from your familiar as you shared a brief moment of comfort.

Upon looking to your left, Griffon’s form was found huddled above your pillow, reflecting the light beautifully from his sapphire feathers and eyes still squeezed shut. Even in rest you could feel his worry and fear for you, stroking a hand down his back and smiling softly. Poor boy had a rough time when you were taken, that was for sure. It looked like he had preened his feathers one too many times in stress, quite a few missing from his tail. You felt so bad, forgetting your own woes for a moment in light of his as you gently scooped him up into your arms, the bird almost curled into a ball while sleeping. He gave a light trill when you did so, feathers shuddering out in delight when you scratched under his beak. So simple, as always. 

_This is real, isn’t it? This is reality._

_No more illusions._

For a few moments, things passed peacefully that way. You grounded yourself in reality, memorizing the sensation of Griffon’s silky feathers under your fingertips and counting each breath. That black strand of hair was back, which meant Nightmare must have returned to you while unconscious. His presence was most certainly there, gracing the edges of your mind in a low, wordless rumble of relief that made you give a gentle smile.The sun was warm, the breeze soothing, and both familiars were now held against you in a gentle, comforting manner. Enough to prove the truth before you, enough to shake off some of the fear and worry. But...not all of it--you still didn’t know what happened to Vergil, after all, and that was making your concern and hesitation grow like vines gripping your lungs and heart.

You heard low voices talking downstairs, barely audible through the floors and almost intelligible. It was uncertain if any of them were Vergil, but you were certain you heard Nero tell someone “Clothes first- _-then_ you can go see her.”

_Clothes first? Her? Were they talking about you?_

There wasn’t long to ponder it. Griffon started blinking awake in the next moment, squinting around the room before lifting his golden eyes up to your face. He earned a soft smile from you, his thoughts reached through your connection in a slow growth of shock and utter relief once he registered it was you holding him in your lap.

He jolted immediately, maw popping open as he squawked in surprise, _“Toots….! You’re awake!”_

“Shh…” You put a finger to your lips to shush him, looking up to see if he had woken up Lady at all.

 Unfortunately, it seemed like he had, unable to control his volume in such excitement. The woman in the chair started to stir, blinking awake right when Griffon pressed his beak insistently to your face, like doing so would somehow convey his level of urgency. Mind you, it did, but you felt a little bad about Lady being awoken by all the noise.

“You okay, toots?” Griffon squawked insistently, clawed feet gripping onto your arm as you let out a huff of air, “Hurt anywhere? Forgetting anythin’? What did the big bad bastard in the sky do to you?”

Well, that was a lot to answer, and worse so considering you had no idea how to respond to the ending two. No pain, but if you were forgetting memories how the hell could you know what they had been? Something was definitely missing, but...it was just that third trial, nothing else. Your mind still remembered V, your family in Fortuna, the familiars. Just what had Vergil seen that the Outsider felt the need to take away? It made no sense.

And trying to figure it out was...making you feel uneasy, like something was prickling its way along your spine. A warning, one that felt close to your Foresight and froze the thought before it had the chance to form. 

_Bad, bad. You should stop doing that._

_Don’t--just leave it alone for now._

_“Y/N...!”_

You looked up in just enough time to see Lady launch herself from the chair, wrapping both arms around you and the familiars with a sigh of relief. Warm, _she was warm and real._ It was almost overwhelming for a moment, tears pricking your eyes and head leaning against her shoulder as the torrent of leftover fear and uncertainty tried to surge again. It had been so frightening, not knowing if you would be allowed to come home, trying to hold Vergil’s head above water through a flood of punishment and pain. You never wanted to lose what was here, this feeling of belonging and love. Nor did you want anyone to suffer that same fate, one of being thrown into the Void with no hope of getting out. 

Regardless.

“Y...you’re here…” You whispered to Lady, leaning back and letting her cup both cheeks, “What...what happened? How did I get home? Did Vergil make it back too?”

_Please tell me he did--I don’t know if I could be allowed back there to find him._

But Lady smiled softly, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead and bringing an air of ease with it. There was no doubt she was sensing how overwhelmed you were, how worried. But if she wasn’t upset or concerned...things had to be alright, didn’t they? She would not lie.

“He’s alright,” She said soothingly, squishing your cheeks together lovingly, in a childish manner, “A portal appeared and spit you out onto the beach--he was downstairs with Dante and the others when Kyrie and I brought you up here last night.”

A gusty sigh of relief left you, head leaning forward to plop on her shoulder again as you muttered, “Oh thank God.” 

Vergil wasn’t in the Void, that alone was a huge blessing and a load off your back. The loss of memory, all the uncertainties...they could wait now, couldn’t they? To just make it out unharmed was enough of a victory to put you at ease.

But.. _.was he alright?_ After all that emotional trauma, the trials, anyone could be severely messed up mentally. If the Outsider had freed Vergil, then something must have happened in that third trial to change his mind about punishment. What could have gone down? You were just hurting yourself trying to figure things out, not knowing if you had actually seen the trial at all--if your memory had been erased, it must have been something either the Outsider or Vergil didn’t want you to remember. Maybe the son of Sparda had done something truly terrible in his past that upset you? Something unforgivable. It both concerned you and released some of the ease on your half of the mystery. Maybe it hadn’t involved you at all, something super humiliating that Vergil just didn’t want you remembering.

Maybe.

You didn’t get the chance to bring anything up about it--Lady suddenly gasped, seeming to realize something and peeling herself off of you in the next instant, “Oh…!”

What had her so riled up? You blinked, watching in confusion as she kissed your cheek again, hurrying to your dresser and starting to rummage through clothes like her life depended on it. Did you miss something by chance, some sign or signal that they needed to get ready? A bit of nervousness remained, making the thought of seeing Vergil again seem...off. There was no more of that charged energy for whatever reason, but it was still going to be hard to face him after everything that happened. That kiss seemed pretty far away, more muted in intensity alongside all the other moments shared between you and the surly son of Sparda.

Oh lord. You’d have to tell the girls about that at some point.

But Lady didn’t notice your hesitation, nor the questioning looks thrown her way. There might as well have been a question mark above your head, but the older woman only held up a finger in a motion that said hold on. Well then. You instead exchanged a look with Griffon like he would somehow have the answers you sought, but were immediately startled when all three familiars blocked their thoughts out--What the hell was going on now? Shadow ignored the very loud thought pushed their way as they licked your cheek and excitedly trotted down the stairs, tail swishing back and forth. As for your favorite bird, he gave a low, ominous chortle, hopping out of your arms and to the dresser Lady was busying herself with.

_What the hell was happening? And why did it feel like you were missing the punchline to a joke?_

“What are you guys doing?” You asked aloud, hopping off of the bed and pressing a hand to your head when a wave of dizziness hit like a baseball bat. Ugh, coming out of the Void always made you feel gross, like your sense of balance was thrown off. Shaking the sensation off slightly, you peeked over Lady’s shoulder and asked in deep concern, “I feel like you both are scheming--what have I missed?” 

_And why did it involve your clothes?_

Lady smirked playfully, turning to face you and shoving a few pieces of clothing in your hands, “You’ll see. Be a good girl and put these on.”

A frown marred your lips, eyes darting down to see a lacy, shoulder baring top and high-waisted shorts. Very pretty, very feminine and picked out for a reason if Lady’s careful searching was any indication of her motives. This was feeling far too theatrical for your tastes, and the reason for all of it was being very clearly hidden by your two friends. The schemers in question exchanged a quick glance, Lady winking at him before turning away to head for the stairs and ignoring your looks of bafflement. 

She paused at the top, blowing you a light kiss as she purred, “If we’re going to do this, we’re going all out.”

You opened your mouth to ask just exactly what “this” was, but Lady wasn’t waiting for a reply. She quickly trotted down to the second floor, the sound of her footsteps fading away and leaving you standing there in a state of dazed confusion. What... _what was going on?_ They all seemed pretty excited about something, despite how dire everything had been just the previous day. 

You lifted the clothes Lady had deposited in your arms and gazed at them with wary eyes, not wanting to be difficult despite how strange everyone was acting. The whole state of this situation wasn’t helping your nerves, not after just convincing yourself that this was reality and not an illusion. Everyone was acting really weird, but...maybe you had just missed something big while being asleep?

You turned to level a look of annoyance of Griffon when he chuckled again, feeling a bit betrayed considering the fact that he and the others were making sure you got absolutely nothing from them. Whatever this was, they were in on it, and that so wasn’t cool.

Griffon rolled his eyes at your sour expression, tapping his claws on the dresser as he sang at you, “Don’t give me that look, toots--you should probably light a fire under that butt of yours.”

“I get sucked into the Void for a night and you guys have me playing dress up?” You replied shortly, tone clipped and very doubtful as you sat down on the edge of the bed to undo your suspenders. 

“Boy, you sure are cranky today, aren’t ya?” The bird rolled his eyes, shaking out his feathers and looking a bit impatient at your slow, hesitant process of removing clothes, “Just play along.”

_Wasn’t like you had any other choice, right?_

Griffon pointedly looked away while you undressed, always trying to be respectful of your modesty despite literally living in your body most of the time. He didn’t respond to your annoyed question in the long run, wearing the closest thing to a smirk that an avian demon could have. That beak was sealed up tight, wasn’t it? _What a traitor--_ you rolled your eyes at the thought, shimmying out of your clothes piece by piece and putting on a completely fresh outfit despite the grievances weighing you down. There would be not point in arguing with everyone so dead set on not explaining, so the next best thing was to simply play along and get to the answer sooner rather than later. You didn’t mind just as long as people were honest when this big secret was revealed to your eyes.

Griffon seemed satisfied that you were now complying, letting out a low chuckle and turning only when he was sure you were decent. One hop later and he was perched on your bare shoulders as always, careful not to mark up your skin with his claws. You would admit it just felt nice to be back with them, those hours in the Void seeming like a lifetime with you not knowing if they were alright. And despite Griffon’s mischief, he seemed just as pleased to be right where he wanted to be again, leaning his beak on the top of your head and settling into the familiar pattern you both shared. It was almost enough to make you forgive him for hiding this big secret from you. Almost, but not quite.

“Let’s get movin’,” He insisted impatiently, tugging on a piece of your hair as you started slowly walking down the stairs, “I ain’t got all day, and I wanna see the show god damn it…!”

 _Show? What show?_ Things were only growing more and more convoluted.

“What on Earth are you going on about?” You sighed softly, making your way through the hall and down the main steps to the foyer of the house, “What show are you waiting for exactly?”

“You’ll see.” Griffon chortled, launching off your shoulders to sail ahead of you. Down the hall, toward the kitchen and out of sight. 

_Well now. That was certainly ominous._

 You paused in the hallway, vaguely wondering where the children were at this time of morning, and if Kyrie and Nero were okay. It must have been past eight o’clock, usually the kids would be running around and chaotic at such an hour and getting ready for the day. There was no patter of little feet, no yelling or giggling to be heard of. You took the time to peer into the living room where their camping stuff was still set up, worrying that their evening events may have been further ruined by your disappearance and the demon attack. Christ, you hoped they weren’t too scared--things like that could be damaging to kids. But it still looked like they had slept overnight in the front room, a mess that would have to be cleaned up later.

You shook your head, finally resigning yourself to the fate waiting with the others. Each step felt measured and careful, the kitchen door ajar as you approached it and wafting out the lightest aroma of tea. That was the herbal stuff you and the girls had purchased from the market, scented with the faintest hint of chamomile and honey. Familiar voices were speaking, relief filling you when you recognized the soft voices of Kyrie and Nico with Nero adding in his two cents occasionally. They sounded calm, albeit slightly riled up about something you couldn’t identify by their light chattering. Well... If they were here and awake, then maybe there wasn’t so much to worry about, right?

Swallowing your sense of confusion, you pushed through the door. 

All eyes immediately turned when you entered, making you feel a bit nervous and out of place. Kyrie, Nico, Lady, Dante…and _Vergil_ sat at the table, throwing you through a complete loop. You weren’t sure what to feel when your eyes locked with the silver haired male, taking in his normal clothes with a surreal sense of bewilderment. He was here, he was alive, and…

_You felt nothing._

 It felt _...off_ , seeing him now in comparison to before. Something was different, the air no longer charged with an energy you didn’t understand. Your eyes met, but you saw a similar lack of emotion coming from him, like whatever had bound you together was now...gone. And that was worrying to you, sending a ball of anxiety to your stomach and making you hesitate in the doorway.

_Did the Outsider change us?_

_But...I didn’t want that, didn’t want to lose the part of Vergil that I cared about._

_Is this what Vergil wanted, to not have to worry about our feelings anymore?_

The man in question seemed to be sipping a cup of tea, donning a simple blue button up and black slacks instead of his fancy coat and vest. It looked strangely domestic, and there was definitely something different about him in comparison to before. He looked...tired, eyes meeting yours for that second and lacking the usual hardness he once showed you. No longer cold, just very heavy and... _guilty?_ He didn’t look away, but didn’t show any indication of feeling for you what was shown in the Void and through those trials.

_Christ. What the hell was going on?_

“Y/N…!” Kyrie exclaimed in relief, standing so she could quickly walk around the table and hug you close. Her embrace was always so warm, so comforting and definitely needed in the moment of uncertainty you were experiencing. Nico came next, hugging you tightly and squeezing until you felt the need to wheeze at such an exuberant display of affection.

“You sure had us worried, sugar,” Nico huffed, leaning back and pinching one of your cheeks between her fingers, “How are ya feelin’ this mornin’?”

Well now. That was a very good question, wasn’t it? Confused, disoriented, uncertain ...but otherwise fine. There was no word that summed that all up in one fell swoop other than...strange.

You paused, looking around the kitchen for Griffon and Shadow only to find that they were absent as well. Where had the familiars gone now? Still no sign of the children either, something that was slowly beginning to worry you considering all that had happened in the night.

You let out a slow breath, trying to gather your racing thoughts together before replying, “I’m...I’m fine, just a bit disoriented is all,” Understatement of the century, but there were questions that needed answers, “Where are the kids? Are they okay?” You paused, looking between the two women to the spiky-haired male that went through the whole ordeal all the same, “Are _you_ okay?”

Vergil paused in sipping his cup of tea, icy blue eyes meeting yours again with that same guilt you saw before, but...a lot more calm. He in general seemed a lot less tense, that rude temper he seemed to pride himself on dulled to the point that it was no longer present. _Was that...normal?_ Had the Outsider done something to him too, maybe changed his memories or his mood? But if he meant to punish Vergil, why the hell would such a thing be done in the first place?

_It didn’t make sense._

 The son of Sparda hesitated before replying to you, exchanging a short, knowing look with Dante as he sipped that tea.

“I am fine,” He finally spoke, tone low and unreadable as he closed his eyes and savored the flavor of his beverage like it was one of the most calming thing he had tasted, “You should focus on yourself, Y/N.”

You frowned at his response, feeling a tad uneasy with how simple and calm things felt. That familiarity you once shared with him, that deep need and affection...where had it all gone? It was all very strange, your body whispering of things long passed, and things that would never come again.

All of it felt very...final. Like the closing of a book, the pages able to rest after years of being plucked with no end. 

Kyrie grasped one of your hands to gain your attention, her brown eyes soft and kind when you turned to look at her, “Trish took the kids out to the bakery for breakfast--they were a little nervous about the demon attack last night, but Trish and Lady helped calm them down and keep the distractions going until they went to bed in their tent.”

 _Thank the Void for that at least_. You released a light sigh, putting a hand to your chest and willing your heart to slow down just a tad. The children had still camped out in the living room, and they didn’t see any of the bullshit that went down when you were snatched away. This was for the best, you would hate for them to be traumatized by the day’s events after losing out on the festival and having their camp out disturbed. One worry checked off the list, now about a million more to tend to.

But there was no chance of asking any more questions.

Dante smirked over the rim of what looked to be a cup of coffee, one loaded with cream and sugar as he took a loud sip, “Your little birdie and kitty cat are out the beach--you should go out and say hi.”

Everyone took on a strange look of anticipation at his words, minus you and Vergil. The expression on your face was somewhere between wariness and confusion, whereas the son of Sparda looked calm and content in ignoring the whole situation and enjoying his tea. Just what the fuck was going on, and _why were they all looking at you like there was a big secret to tell?_ It made you very nervous indeed, blinking as you met Kyrie’s eyes and felt her squeeze your hand encouragingly. There was something in her smile, something that made your heart start pounding faster and faster until you were sure it was trying to burst from your chest.

_Why...why am I feeling this?_

_Vergil is right there, isn’t he?_

_So why is my heart aching so much?_

Your mind refused, it was trying to protect you from anything it might try and conjure up as the source of all this madness. What could cause them to all look like that? What could be waiting for you outside that would require so much secrecy? There was only one thing you wanted, craved, needed more than anything. And he...he was gone, he couldn’t exist while Vergil was still here, living and whole. You were supposed to try for him, right? You were supposed to help him through his trauma and let him embrace V after years of suppressing his humanity.

But...your soul was starting to ache, to tremble. Not for you to stay with Vergil, but to walk out the back door and onto the beaches of Fortuna.

_That can’t be right...can it?_

Nero was watching you from the table, taking in the changes of your expression and probably reading the nervousness and hesitation there. You met his gaze briefly, seeing a steadiness there that you wished could be shared through the rising torrent of emotion trying to rise in your head. 

“Come on, kid,” He said after a few moments of silence, grunting as he stood up from the table and holding out a hand for you to take, “I’ll come with--trust me, this is definitely not something you wanna wait on.”

Nero knew you well, knew what happened in the Qliphoth tree and saw you at your most vulnerable. There was a level of trust shared that had not been broken, but... _Why were you so anxious?_ Where was this uncertainty coming from? You didn’t know what was waiting for you out there, but...there was a ball of anticipation and worry curling in your stomach, heavy and showing no signs of leaving. 

_This is reality, isn’t it? There’s no chance, there’s--_

You swallowed, hesitantly taking Nero’s hand with unsteady fingers. For whatever reason, you could feel Vergil’s eyes watching as this happened, seeing only a glimpse of his expression out of your peripheral view. What was that look that flashed in his eyes, something like...remorse? _But that couldn’t be right, could it?_ You didn’t get to focus on it long, Nero tugging you around the table and heading toward the door. Everyone was staring now, Nico and Kyrie smiling goofily and inching their way behind you as Nero clicked the door open, allowing a rush of warm, morning air to gust into the kitchen and curl around your form.

You paused in the doorway, feeling Nero’s fingers squeeze yours encouragingly as he stopped to look back at your conflicted face. The boy certainly looked wise beyond his years in that moment, the sun making his white hair glow as it swayed in the breeze and eyes steady and encouraging. He was your best friend, a brother in so many ways after all he had done to help you bounce back from the terrible events in the Qliphoth. 

You had laughed with him, cried with him, and went on so many missions to both fight demons and improve Fortuna. _Kyrie, Nero, Nico, Lady, Trish, all the kids..._ they were so very precious to you, filling up the void V had left behind and not faltering once despite not owing you anything in the first place. Dante too, and then Vergil...all these people formed pieces of your lives, and they should have been enough.

_They were everything. Everything you wanted, needed, and adored._

Why should you want more? Why was your heart throbbing in your chest, pushing you to look out at the sand, searching for the one thing you knew shouldn’t be there?

Nero gave you a crooked half smile, coaxing you forward with a little push to your lower back. You tried to keep your steps steady, eyes down on the sand and watching the way your toes sank into it, glistening warmly in the morning sun. Why couldn’t you bring yourself to look up? Why couldn’t you look out across the beach for the familiar shapes of Griffon and Shadow? You were no coward, not a fool and certainly not the type to hope for silly, impossible things. But there was a rising sense of energy in the air, one you recognized all too well. That drawl, the way your chest ached. _..swallow your fear, lift your head._

_You’ve come this far, haven’t you?_

_The worst case scenario is nothing will be there._

_But somehow...that seems like more than I can take._

You breathed out a slow, shaking breath when Nero paused in front of you, releasing your fingers despite how desperately you wanted to hang on. Lifeline gone, eyes still down on the floor despite how much every part of you was screaming for the chance to look up. The silence was so...peaceful, usually calming but not so much with how frayed your nerves had become. The rolling waves, the summer breeze, and the sensation of being watched from all sides. Every person in the kitchen was more than likely watching out the window at you, eager to see your reaction to whatever awaited. It was incredibly nerve wracking, your heart thudding away very quickly and lungs feeling like they were aching in your chest. 

_Look up._

_Please, look up._

There was a sound on the beach in front of you, like someone was pulling themselves off of the sand. For a moment, you thought it was Shadow, hearing the padding of their paws as they settled around your feet. Black, shiny fur, red eyes. Now in your line of view, purring away as a means to try and comfort its host in such an obvious state of worry--but it wasn’t the mighty cat that was heard. A rustle of fabric, breath sucked between lips as someone stood mere feet away from you, their eyes locked on your face. And yet...you still couldn’t bring yourself to look up, the wind sending your hair waving in the breeze as a moment of silence passed uninterrupted by any of the people standing there.

 _Afraid._ You were afraid everything around you wasn’t real, that when you looked up nothing would be here. Back in the Void, an illusion. Or maybe that it would be something else, not what you were hoping for more than anything in that moment. _Things rarely worked out so easily, did they?_ Not for someone like you, born to taste the fruits of happiness but never be able to keep them. Things that were too good to be true generally always were, so how could you even begin to hope for what you wanted, what you craved more than anything? The thought of it alone made you want to cry, to wail and weep like you had all those months ago in the Qliphoth tree. Everything had come so far, the recovery process hard and filled with turmoil. 

_It never stopped the desire, it never stopped the loneliness and longing._

Your fingers started to tremble when footsteps approached you slowly from the front, muffled and soft in the sand. Like whoever it was walked barefoot. Even then, you didn’t look up, heart pounding like fists on steel walls, sobbing and begging to see who it was, to embrace it. Shadow leaned their weight on your legs, the only proof of reality you could ground yourself in with the storm of emotion raging in your heart. They were solid, warm, fur soft as it brushed your bare skin and rumbling with a purr. Those red eyes lifted toward the newcomer when they stopped in front of you, feet away and still silent despite your terse refusal to look up yourself. You couldn’t even see their feet, but the presence was undeniably familiar. 

That energy, that sensation of being so close to home with it just out of reach.

_You know who that is, don’t you?_

_Why not take the chance?_

_After everything that has happened...we can afford to be disappointed._

Nero took a few steps back, like he was passing you off to the person standing silently in wait. It felt...strange. He briefly put a hand on your shoulder as a sign of support, a light squeeze that was enough to remind you that someone always had your back. Whether it be him or the others, if you felt like falling there would always be people there to catch you. Good things had happened, didn’t they? _A family, a home, a purpose..._ all things you never thought would come, _but they had_. You managed to lift yourself up, their hands supported you until each foot could move on its own. And now it felt like the impossible could become real, that you could somehow get everything you had hoped for.

But your mind still didn’t want to risk hurting you. Even when the silence was finally broken, when the person before you sucked in a soft breath, releasing it slowly before they spoke in a voice all too familiar. Like melted honey, soft and melodic. One that made your heart go into overdrive, so many emotions and feelings flooding inside that you felt like you might collapse, knees weakening and head feeling a bit dizzy. Mind over reality, hopes and dreams battling with the acceptance of that you thought was set in stone. 

_But this was reality, wasn’t it?_

_“He who binds to himself a joy, does the winged life destroy,”_ His voice was gentle, sounding just as hesitant and aching as you. Like he was putting a thousand apologies into those words, a million emotions that echoed yours in kind, “ _But he who kisses the joy as it flies, lives in eternity’s sunrise.”_

_It can’t--_

_It can’t be him--_

_That wasn’t possible, was it?_

You were on the verge of collapse, tears burning in your eyes as the torrent of emotions threatened to rise. _God, how long had it been since you heard his voice?_ Months, so many months of missing and craving that warm tone, of hearing him whisper and recite those same poems that you had read in the book Nero kept in the kitchen. _V’s book_ , the one he left behind. Hearing it now was like being hit by a truck, threatening to make you fall to your knees and weep for all you had lost, for how much you wanted it back. Please- _-Please please please. Let this be real, let this not be a dream or an illusion._

_I can’t take disappointment again._

You were starting to breath heavily, one hand raising to grip at the lacy blouse above your heart and clench around the fabric. What were you supposed to say? To feel? How could you begin to accept this as real?

How could you possibly get to feel this love again, after waiting for so long?

“Why do you hide your eyes from me, Sparrow?” His voice whispered softly when your silence persisted, aching like he wanted to reach over the distance and touch you. Waiting, not wanting to move too fast, not wanting to push it, “Won’t you look at me? Are you angry?”

_This hurts. This is too much._

_I want--_

You swallowed down a sob, shoulders shaking delicately with the force of your restrained emotions as you whispered hollowly in response, “B...because...I’m afraid that when I look up, none of this will be real. I... _I don’t want any more illusions.”_

_Not anymore._

_You can’t exist while Vergil does, can you?_

He paused again, a shaken breath leaving his lungs at your soft, trembling words. He knew just as well what happened in the Void as you, having seen it from Vergil’s eyes. Each trial, each seemingly real image of other places and other times...surely making him seem there could be child’s play, as unrealistic as it would be for the Outsider to do that to you. But maybe all of this wasn’t real, an illusion created by the Void to put you at ease? It didn’t feel that way, it felt achingly warm and real, solid and lacking the instability those illusions had. No Void whispers, no occasional flicker of cold. Just the sun, the beaches, and…

_I’m scared. I’m want you so badly, and I’m afraid that you’re not really here._

You had been hurt far too much the way it was, that was common enough knowledge. He knew that.

It was why he crossed the space between you both, slipping his warm fingers over your cheeks to hold them with a gentleness you recognized and ached for. His touch was like a jolt of electricity, making you gasp and those tears finally drip from your eyes, no longer held back like all the conflicted emotions. Solid, _solid--that feels so real_ , so god damn real. It was like a breath of air after months of drowning, sending your heart racing and sobbing in absolute relief. More than that kiss with Vergil had been, more than anything you’d ever experienced. It was what finally made you knees give out, all of the emotions too much for you to handle and sending you to your knees like you were in prayer.

Or it would have. He caught you with those familiar arms, holding you up and against his chest as the first sob broke from your lips. His embrace was so warm, one hand holding you up while the other tilted up your chin, letting your eyes see him truly for the first time- _-and what a sight he was_ , illuminated by the rays of the sun, white hair drifting in the breeze and jade gaze staring into yours with so many apologies, so much emotion and adoration it made your heart break in two. There were tears in his eyes, glistening on his white lashes in the morning sun like diamonds.

Real-- _he is real, he is here._ You could hardly fathom what you were seeing, taking him in through the tears in your eyes like he was the sun itself.

So many months spent imagining him, so many nights dreaming of what he looked like and if you would ever see that beautiful face again. This was everything-- _he was everything, and your imagination could never truly capture him._ Your hands lifted on their own, tracing the soft lines of his lips, up his high cheekbones and through his soft hair. _Real real real. Alive._ You were feeling him, he was here--and that was enough to send your head spinning, eyes dropping more and more tears for him to brush away with his beautiful fingers. Illusion or not, real or not... _this was everything_. A balm on your wounded soul, like coming home after months of wandering lost. The last piece of your life’s puzzle falling into place.

_He was back. You didn’t know how, but V was back and alive._

“Oh darling…” V breathed, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead while sobs continued to leave your lips. He then kissed your cheeks, your hair, murmuring softly and sorrowfully, “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, not after how many times I have made you cry...I am sorry for everything that I have done, every lie that I told you, I…”

He was apologizing over and over, kiss after kiss grazing parts of your face and even sweeter than the last. You didn’t care, _you didn’t care-_ -All of the anger, the heartbreak, the betrayal you felt while processing the loss of the one you loved most...none of that seemed to matter anymore. You launched yourself at the poet, causing him to release a startled grunt as you knocked him back onto the sand with your arms around his neck. Griffon and Nero snickered at your exuberant display of affection, watching in amusement at V’s flustered expression. Making him blush was something you never thought would happen again, but it did when you pressed your lips to his, hands buried in his silken hair like he had never been gone at all.

You didn’t care who saw, either. All the eyes from the house were watching, but Christ you could never care.

It came with belated realization that V was no longer wearing his vest and slacks from the day he left. When you leaned back from kissing him, you realized he was in a baggy, black v-neck and jeans that both looked like they didn’t fit him very well. No more tattoos, but that made sense considering that they were on your body now--he looked healthy, a far cry from the cracking man in the Qliphoth tree. His jade eyes were bright when they met yours, lips tilted in that familiar smirk and skin glowing in the sun. Still skinny, but with steady meals and care he could probably start feeling a lot better. The idea of getting to do that with him, getting to live with him…

It made you positively lightheaded.

“How?” You breathed, putting a hand to his cheek and feeling giddy when he nuzzled into your palm, “I don’t understand--Vergil is still here, still whole. How can this be real?”

V let out a low hum, sitting up and kissing your fingers with gentle lips, “A gift from the Outsider...He was angry at Vergil for the things he had done, but…” His eyes went dark for a moment at mention of the Void’s events, but it disappeared as he added, “A man named Corvo stepped in to calm him down, and they both decided it would be best to separate me from Vergil and allow him to keep his humanity anew.”

 _Corvo had been there?_ You blinked in surprise, feeling a bit disappointed that there was no chance to say hello. You hadn’t seen him in ages, always off on missions when he visited or sleeping in the Void. The fact that he had to calm down the Outsider was surprising to you--the God had never seemed easily emotional, so hearing that he was angry was...strange. _Everything was now._ After all the mixed feelings you had for the man you considered a father, he had still come through in the end and brought V back, fixed everything. And that…that was more than you could hope for.

_I’ll have to make a shrine at some point...talking to him about what happened might be best._

You shook your head to clear the thoughts, pressing a hand to his chest and feeling his heart thudding at a steady pace. _Warm, alive._

“So...so no more crumbling…?” You murmured hesitantly, threading your fingers with his when he grasped with his own, “You...you’re not a part of Vergil anymore…?”

V smiled softly, white hair drifting over his lovely jade eyes as he confirmed, “No more crumbling--I share Vergil’s memories, but I am my own person now. Whole, with new memories to make and a life to live outside of him.”

_Free._

You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck again, feeling his warm chuckle right by your ear as absolute relief and joy threatened to spill forth. _No more lies, no more barriers, no more hesitations_ \--V was himself, and yours to hold and love without worry. That was why the energy between you and Vergil seemed gone, why the surly man seemed indifferent now. The part of him that was in love with you was now free, separate to do what he wished and make his own life. And what better outcome could you ask for other than this? All your worries about the third trial missing from your memory, all the uncertainties and worries that had once been so loud...they were quiet now, buried under layers of overwhelming joy. 

You kissed V again like he was the air your breathed, a soft sound of contentment brushing against his lips. There were several months apart to make up for, and things were starting to get carried away.

How could you help it?

Griffon let out a heavy, impatient sigh from behind you both, the sound of flapping wings coming next as he landed on the sand, “Alright kids, gettin’ too cozy for our liking. Are you forgettin’ you have an audience?”

You and V both blinked, looking up and behind to see Nero was no longer standing there by himself. Kyrie, Nico, and Lady were now with him, grinning as they watched embarrassment flash across your expressions. Dante and Vergil were now out on the deck, both still holding their cups and watching all of this go down as well. Dante smirking in amusement, Vergil looking impassive and blank. 

Did he willingly give up his human half for you, so V could be reborn again? At some point you might have been a bit wistful about that, wondering why Vergil just didn’t try to pick up where V left off, but it hardly mattered. There was no connection left for him, but you did hope to be his friend at the very least, or to thank him for what was done.

Regardless, you smiled at the bemused group, rising to your feet and helping V up. This all felt so surreal, but you were riding on a wave of so many good energies that there was no room left to care. 

Kyrie looked ready to bounce in place, hands clasped together in front of her chest and beaming with happiness, “We should have a celebration today--no better way to mark a joyous occasion, and It’ll make the children happy…!”

You nodded at that, feeling V come up behind you and wrap both of his arms around your waist. It was definitely odd--you he had ever been to a party before, and especially not one marking his return. Hell, this could be his birthday if they wanted it to--and judging by the looks everyone wore the idea of having a celebration was exactly what everyone needed.

Nero put an arm around Kyrie’s waist, pressing a light kiss to her brow as he replied, “Sounds good to me--just as long as we never let Dante near a grill again.”

“I heard that!” The man in question called from the deck, but he was still smirking as he lifted the coffee cup to his lips. 

You had no idea what Dante did to earn a ban status on the grill, but it was not the priority at that moment. Nico and Lady started tugging you both toward the house, Griffon landing on V’s shoulders this time and complaining at him about what a dumbass he had been, and about how they would be forced to have joint custody over the familiars because “ _there was no way in hell he wanted to lose out on the cool Void powers”_. Shadow weaved between everyone’s legs, tail swishing excitedly and red eyes bright with interest as they all started making their way back in. You couldn’t blame them for being so energetic--things had gone from absolute madness and chaos to the best outcome you could hope for overnight.

V’s fingers entwined with yours while walking, determined not to let go after so long of not being able to have you. A lifeline, one that you never thought you’d have again. No more worrying about him falling apart, or about hidden secrets. There was so much room to grow even closer, no more secrets left to hide and everything laid bare. And you could tell he had realized the same, his jade eyes soft and deep when you glanced back at his lovely face. There was a hint of nervousness there with so much attention on him, especially with Nico and Lady making sure to lecture him on what happened.

But...your poet looked happy. There was an ease to him no, lacking in the driven, haunting looks he had in the Qliphoth tree. Peaceful--there were no more burdens to bear, no more sacrifices to make. Just time to heal, to grow better and start a new life. 

And for once, after years and years of fighting and struggling...the fruits of happiness were yours to take. No more reminders of pain, no more sleeping in the Void. It finally felt like you were home, surrounded by smiling family with V’s hand back in yours. The kids would come home from the bakery to a new member of the household, but somehow you had the feeling that V would be good with kids. To move on from Vergil’s memories wouldn’t be easy, but you knew he could handle it with everyone here to help. 

And Vergil...he was free of V, and of you. Something that might have been bittersweet, but he seemed content. Sipping his tea, quipping back at his son when he made a snide remark about his cooking too. There was a hint of a smile on his lips, lacking the bite he had before and seemingly trying to talk to Nero, to get along and learn about his son. The trials really seemed to change his mind about things, which might have been for the best.

You were happy. Content. And at the end of the day, that was all you ever wanted.


	40. Chapter 40 ~Epilogue~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of Ebony and Ivory--thank so all so much for all the love and support you've given me, its truly been a blessing and i dont know if i would have had the motivation otherwise. I do planning on writing another fic to start releasing it soon, a Vergil one called "Echo Chamber". 
> 
> This is why I will ask you all if you want the alternate Vergil ending for this fic. On one hand, the Vergil ending is what I wanted to write to begin with, but I let others convince me to stick with V and force his ending instead. Its why the ending became so bittersweet and off--I had plans to do an end where she got with Vergil since I started liking him part way through the fic, but...people didnt like the prospect at the time. Something I regret, but I tried to make up for it a bit more. I could write the alternate ending, but i would much rather funnel all my love for Vergil into his fic, and do my best for that.
> 
> Do you guys still want the alternate ending? Or should I focus on the new fic?
> 
> Just let me know what you guys think--and thank you so much for sticking through my fic despite all the ups and downs it had. Writing this has been such a privilege, thank you lovelies <3

_Chapter 40_

_Epilogue_

_(Several Months later)_

You never wanted to get up from your bed.

This was bliss in its truest form, was it not? Waking to warmth, face tucked against the neck of your lover and limbs tangled with the bed sheets. It was another beautiful, sunny day in Fortuna as usual, the sound of waves rolling against the shore and V’s slow breathing the only melody for your ears. _Warm, so warm._ This had to be heaven--there was doubt that anything else could feel so perfect. You let out a gentle sigh, mind feeling foggy with sleep and body delightedly comfortable as you stretched out along your poet’s form, toes pressing against his bare calves. It was so strange, you had gotten used to V feeling cool and frail for the entire time you traveled to the Qliphoth tree; feeling his warmth and solidity was a gift you would never take for granted again, not after witnessing him crumble his way up to becoming Vergil again.

V was doing better than he ever had, you and Kyrie made sure of that. The motherly woman had been worried upon seeing V’s ribs and rail-thin form, and seemingly made it her sworn duty to get the poet healthy. He learned pretty quick that arguing with her was not the best idea, not once she got rolling. No skipping meals, taking vitamins, listening to you both hounding him and not uttering so much as a peep of complaint. You both only backed off after his bones stopped showing through his skin, letting him decide on his diet after that. Not much had changed--V preferred eating light over big meals, which was understandable with such a new body. Months later and he was looking more lean and healthy, still a lanky man but less frail and with a bit more muscle. That cane was less as a tool to walk with, and more of a conductor's baton he used in battle.

Well-fed and well-rested. As he should be.

You had spoken of what happened in the Qliphoth tree, and to be honest you had forgiven him for everything that transpired before words of apology had left those lovely lips. Understanding could be found--there was  desperation, a need to return to who he was before. All that was gone now, V finally his own person with a full soul on top of it all. The only way to go was up, which you were more than doing. The new time together only strengthened how much you loved him, deepening that bond of trust and acceptance again after the lies and mistakes fractured it. Piece by piece, bit by bit...things were becoming as perfect as they could be, and in the end that was all you wanted. 

The things you once took for granted were now so precious, weren’t they? The feeling of V kissing your fingers, the way his hair felt under your hands. Those jade eyes, his sly smile...having them back felt like a dream, one you never wanted to wake from. It was the little moments of simple, domestic life that seemed so enchanting after he came back, moments you thought would never be had with him. Sharing a cup of coffee on the beach while the sun was still rising, watching him read poetry to the children, helping teach him how to cook with the aid of Kyrie and Nico. He was pretty hopeless in front of a stove before those teachings, but learned very quickly. If you weren’t mistaken, he found a joy for it too--he would sneak peeks at cooking novels and shows on several occasions, and offered to help with dinner often.

Something about it was...very cute.

As for Vergil, he returned back to Devil May Cry with Dante and the women. You were shocked, the spiky-haired male put up no fuss when his brother instructed him to do so, and had apparently put in a lot of effort to make it a functioning business. Not only that, but he had been making a determined effort to be a part of Nero’s life now that everything was said and done. His father and uncle now visited once a week, keeping the kids entertained and staying for dinner to talk and socialize. Kyrie loved it, Nero was undecided, and Nico still hated Vergil’s guts. Dinners were filled with hostile stares from the mechanic, which Vergil easily ignored. Hearing him ask Nero questions about his life, seeing them spar on the beach and Vergil actually trying to teach him things? Odd. But...maybe those trials left their mark, so the Outsider must have done something right.

Speaking of the God, you were back to talking with him. A shrine now rested in an alcove on a nearby cliff, glowing at night with the purple light of lanterns and humming with the Void’s energy. Corvo, as always, managed to talk sense into your father figure--He was there when you spoke last, promising the keep the God behaving while you got your life together. The Outsider wasn’t going to argue it, that much was sure. You thanked him for bringing V back, and managed to repair some of the trust that was lost, bit by bit as you did with V. The shrine was now visited once a week, offers left on its alter and gone the next morning. Food, books, sometimes things you crafted yourself. The Outsider seemed to enjoy food the most--you doubted he got to eat much of anything in a place like that.

Regardless. 

The kids warmed up to V well, easily sensing his uncertainty and all around awkwardness when it came to living normally. They liked being able to teach him things--like how to clean pots properly, how to make s’mores when a bonfire was lit in the backyard. Little things that V didn’t seem to think about or know, either because Vergil didn’t know them or because some things were lost when the two were separated. Being reborn had to be hard, you were always patient with him when a new problem rose up. V didn’t seem to mind either, it made the kids feel super important, like they could sense the poet’s vulnerability. Plus what could be better than having another person in the house to talk and play with? Julio in particular seemed to like the poetry, and asked the goth about it a lot.

Speaking of the kids, you knew that they would be going into town with Kyrie in the morning to practice for their performance in the spring festival. It was starting to get warmer outside bit by bit after winter came and went, but the day would be comfortably warm for the kids as they made props at Madame Elenor’s shop. You could hear them downstairs already, chattering excitedly about the prospect of seeing the other kids in Fortuna, practicing their lines and getting to paint trees and scenery to be moved into the theater at the square. 

Now that you thought about it...almost a year had passed, hadn’t it? Since you were brought to this world.

_So much has happened._

_So many terrible, wonderful things._

_Only this time around, everything is perfect._

You let out a contented sigh, snuggling closer against V’s wiry form and feeling him shift and mumble lightly in his sleep. It was April now, and you planned to go through May and June in peace and delight. Just having these past few months has been so wild, celebrating Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New year’s Eve...all the things you were once certain V would never have, but got to have in kind. It was shaping up to be an amazing year, and you were ready for each and every one after that to come. 

That was the thought you drifted in and out of sleep on, knowing full well that you didn’t have to meet up with Kyrie and the others until noon. Nero would be out discussing the next mission with Nico, Dante, and Vergil as well until returning to go out with the rest of you. A day out to lunch was in order, his uncle and father declining the invitation despite how insistently Nero had offered it. Something about working some family things out had been their excuse--you were fairly certain they intended to visit their mother’s grave. Some things were far more important, you could easily understand that. Besides, being around Vergil felt...weird sometimes. Like staring at a painting that once held color, and seeing only black and white.

You tried to shake the thought, realizing for the first time in months you and V had the house to yourselves, peace and quiet reigning supreme once the kids were heading down the street. You loved your new family, you really did, but most mornings were rife with Nico’s invention shenanigans, or the kids finding their energy after breakfast and play-fighting with Nero. To finally be able to lie in bed with V, only the warm breeze drifting through the windows and the sun on your body...it was so nice, and needed. Maybe that was why Kyrie decided she would take the kids there herself, insisting you sleep in after “ _working so hard with Nero and the others”_. Sweet woman, you adored her for that.

Especially when you felt V finally begin to stir, his muscles stretching and a soft groan leaving those beautiful lips. You decided to keep your eyes closed, wanting to savor the moments of relaxation for a little while longer and act like sleep kept you in its gentle grasp. You weren’t disappointed--V’s fingers stroked through your hair, nails tracing feather-light patterns on your scalp before trailing down your neck. If you were a cat, you would have purred at a feeling like that. As it was, you shivered softly in delight as you shifted even closer, one hand gracing his bare chest and over the faded tattoos that rested there.

After everything was said and done, you both shared a connection with the familiars. They generally spent most of their time in V considering he had been lacking in power for those first few months. But being born from the Void had left him with some byproducts, and he was learning how to use them at his own pace and tolerance level. The poet had been astounded at how much it burned to use the abilities of the Void, learning pretty early on that you dealt with it all the time--he didn’t like that, but reluctantly didn’t push things on it further.

The tattoos only extended over his arms and chest now, like sleeves that drifted over his collarbones. It was there that you traced your fingers, feeling his chest rise with a slow breath as your fingers danced a line from there to his stomach, resting there to feel the muscles bunch and relax. He was so sensitive, ticklish--a delightful thing, one learned pretty quickly after shenanigans had broken out on a particular evening. _Cute._ There were so many things about him now that were absolutely charming.

He let out a low hum, grasping your fingers lightly between his own and lifting them to his face. Those soft lips brushed your knuckles, tender and loving as you kept your eyes closed in an attempt to feign off waking a bit more.

 _“The sun descending in the west, the evening star does shine_ ,” V murmured against your skin, his other arm wrapping around your waist to tug you closer as he continued, _“The birds are silent in their nest, and I must seek for mine.”_

You couldn’t help it--a smile broke over your lips, eyelids fluttering open to stare at his face in amusement. He always took your breath away,  a vision of beauty and perfection. His hair was black again with Nightmare’s presence, and the tattoos were dark on one side from housing...was that Griffon this time? You paused, feeling Shadow rouse briefly in your thoughts before plunging back again, giving you both the privacy you so craved. The demons weren’t oblivious, they knew you’d have the house to yourselves come morning.

Regardless, you let out a contented sigh, resting your chin on his chest and staring up at him with adoring eyes as you mumbled sleepily, “Do you intent to wake me every morning to William Blake?”

He grinned at that, tucking a stray hair behind your ear as he replied, “Perhaps. Does it displease you, my little Sparrow?” He kissed the top of your hair, voice rumbling over you as he added, “Would you prefer I wake you to…. _other_ delights?”

Judging by his low, husky tone you knew exactly what these other delights could be. The man was insatiable now that he had this new body and freewill--not that you were complaining. 

“A beast has awakened in my tender poet,” You mumbled, feigning an exaggerated swoon and tucking your face against his neck again, “One that intends to eat me alive, always hungering for my supple flesh….!”

That earned you a low chuckle, V turning and nipping lightly at the skin behind your ear as he growled, “And you call me the dramatic one--you could put writers to shame when you speak in such ways,” Both of his arms wrapped around your waist, breath brushing your ear and making you shiver as he breathed, “ _Those who restrain desire do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained.”_

Leave it to him to find a poetry quote for everything. But he was right in an odd way--there was no restraining a desire like the one shared between you and the poet. It was a charged energy in the air, one that sent a bolt of arousal right to your core and left you aching in the best way. A soft sound of want left you as he pressed up against your back, his hardness very apparent through the thin fabric of your panties and body  deliciously warm as it cradled yours. Feeling a bit bold, you wiggled against him, smiling when he sucked in a sharp breath and put a very firm hand on your hips to still the movement. There was definitely no room for restraint when you were playing games like that.

He flipped you over in the next instant, your back pressed to the bed and both hands pinned by his as he stared down at you with heady, jade eyes. Your heart picked up its pace immediately at the sight of him, feeling almost dizzy at his beauty. Hair tousled from sleep, eyes hooded and staring at you with the most delicious hunger...Christ, he was so achingly lovely, wasn’t he? Especially with the sun making patterns on him like that, the curtains drifting lightly overhead and stroking his bare shoulders like a lover’s caress. Your face flushed despite how many times you had seen this same view, flustered all over again as he brushed a thumb over those parted lips and released one of your arms.

Oh dear. You could come undone at this rate.

“How I enjoy seeing that,” V whispered softly, shivering when you nipped at his fingers in their exploration, “The way you gaze at me, sparrow...it makes me ache in the best way.”

You smiled, wiggling lightly underneath him and enjoying how desire grew in his expression in response, “I can’t help it...I feel like you get prettier and prettier every day.” 

It wasn’t an understatement, either. Each time you awoke to his loving arms it was like seeing him all over again, overtaken by his lovely face and soft lips. Could you possibly love the man more? You had thought not, but each morning was proving you otherwise. 

V clicked his tongue at your response, seeming doubtful as he kissed a line from your neck down to your chest. He plucked at the straps on the camisole covering the parts of you he desired, pulling them down agonizingly slow until your breasts were bare to the glowing sunlight. You let out a slow exhale, feeling him slide those loving hands up from your stomach to the pert mounds aching for his touch and shivering when he gave each one attention in kind. The idle swirl of his thumb over a nipple, his eyes staring at you with the most unbelievable fascination and desire as he dipped his head to taste as well…

 Christ, you could have come just at that--his tongue was so warm, swirling over the pink tip of your breast and sucking gently until a light mewl of want left your lips. You buried your hands in his silken, ebony locks, eyes closing and head tilting back as you savored the tantalizing sensation of his mouth on your sensitive flesh. He was such a good lover, always loving, always willing to learn and try new things. The past few months had allowed him to come into his desires and sexual preferences bit by bit whenever you both could find the privacy, and that was always enjoyable. He was discovering a preference for being a bit more dominant in bed, which earned zero complaints from your end as well. The idea of V pinning you down and fucking you senseless was definitely an appealing one.

But moments like these, filled with gentle touches and soft exploration...they reminded you so much of that first time, but better. More familiar, more charged than ever before. 

Especially when he finally leaned back, hooking his fingers over the lace of your panties and slowly tugging them down and off. You obediently lifted your legs for him, eyes opening to watch as he tossed the scrap of fabric unceremoniously to a corner of the room. The action almost made you giggle, a smile tugging at your lips at the way he dramatically flung them away. He returned his attention back a moment lady, eyes drinking in the sight of your bare legs and dripping desire waiting for the pleasure you knew would come.

“Pretty and pink,” He murmured, stroking his hands up your thighs and squeezing as he coaxed them apart, “Just for me.”

You let out a low hum in response, shivering when he bent your knees and pressed both thighs back a bit more. Fully exposed to his eyes, glistening in the drifting sunlight and just as he described. The anticipation was killing you--this slow pace was delicious torture, and every second was like heaven and hell in one. But if the past few months had taught you anything, it was that good things came to those who waited.

“What do you have planned for me, slick?” You whispered, biting your lip as he pressed a kiss from your knee then down to your inner thigh. Part of you knew, and the need growing inside was making your toes curl in excitement.

V smirked, raising his eyes from your body as a playful look slipped across his face. He slid one finger idly down your wet folds, smirk growing as your breath hitched and you actively strained to keep your hips pressed against the mattress. Infuriating man, he knew exactly what effect he had over you, and exploited it in kind.

“I’m simply playing my part, Sparrow,” He replied in a husky tone, swirling a finger over your sensitive clit and down to your entrance in one tantalizing movement, “Hungering for your supple flesh...a beast with the intentions of eating you alive. Who will save this fairest of damsels from me? Surely no one is around to hear your screams for help.”

You giggled at V’s low, ominous growl, squeaking when he pressed his fingers against that sensitive spot and jolting you in place. Very sensitive, very needy.

“Bold of you to assume I’ll scream for help…” You breathed, voice trailing off in a soft whimper as he continued those slow rotations of his fingers. Each touch made you ache, throbbing and wanting to reach that peak only he could bring. But V was purposely drawing it out, finding amusement in your response and pausing for a moment in his actions.

The dark-haired male grinned, eyes meeting yours like a predator ready to devour his prey as he let out a low purr of, “Oh, you’ll be screaming alright.”

_Please--My heart will stop if you keeps saying things like that._

But you didn’t get to say that out loud. V dipped his head down in the next moment, spreading your glistening folds with his fingers as he stroked a tongue over your aching flesh. Your hips jolted on their own, a soft whimper leaving you as he started devouring you just as promised. Slowly, carefully, taking his sweet time and savoring at his own pace. It took every ounce of control to keep your thighs in place, trembling lightly with the strain of not moving. Restraint? What was that again? Your thighs were strong, you didn’t want to accidentally crush him between them with how fantastic he was making you feel. Stroke after stroke of his tongue, warm and wet as he teased your clit and swirled over your aching entrance. 

 _Too much, not enough_. You arched into his touch, soft moans leaving your lips and fingers gripping the bed sheets. What a wicked man you were in love with, bringing you slowly to the edge of pleasure with his tongue and not swayed by your soft pleas for more, for faster movements and more pressure. _So close, fuck I’m already so close._ He knew it too, a pleased hum leaving his throat and sending delicious vibrations over your clit as he sucked it between his lips.

“V...V…” You whimpered, fingers slipping into his silken locks to tug lightly as he continued to pleasure you right on the edge of that peak, “I need…please…”

The poet’s eyes practically rolled back in his head when you pulled his hair, knowing full well how much he loved it. That encouragement was just what V needed, his jade eyes meeting yours briefly before he tugged you closer, fingers gripping your thighs hard as he stroked his tongue over your clit, swirling and sucking with enough pressure to wring a cry from your lips. You were prone and gasping as he had his wicked way, hands grasping the poet’s head and thighs shaking as that peak grew and grew with his actions. Unrelenting, you were coming undone again. It was a good thing no one was home, because you couldn’t be quiet no matter how hard you tried. At least an attempt was made, but that wasn’t what V wanted. The ruthless man loved nothing more than to hear you wail with satisfaction, body writhing as he made you come on his tongue and fingers.

Which is exactly what he did.

Your head tilted back as you finally crested, something close to a sob of relief and pleasure bursting from your lungs and thighs shaking as he held them in place, “V…!”  It felt good, so good your toes curled and hips arched into his touch. He was doing a number on your heart, that was for sure--it was pounding in your chest, especially when V continued to tease and stroke his tongue over your flesh, not having his fill until you were whimpering and writhing from too much stimulation. Only then did he pull back, jade eyes staring at your spent form with satisfaction and amusement. He licked his glistening lips, wiping them with those elegant fingers and staring at the traces of your arousal left behind. That expression almost looked smug.

The poet’s gaze traveled over your form, taking in your chest as it rose and fell with each breath, face flushed as you slung an arm over your eyes. What a way to start your morning, listening to the waves crash onto the sand outside and feeling the most unbelievable pleasure from the man you loved... _what a gift, one you would cherish every day until the end of time_. To have him here after months of feeling like you wouldn’t, reminded again and again that this was reality...it made the bad times seem so far away, like a dream long forgotten in the realm of waking.

V seemed to understand, even when you didn’t say it. He leaned over your body in the next moment, pulling your arm away so his lips could find purchase. You sighed in delight, kissing back and wrapping both arms around his neck as you shared a moment of peace and tenderness.

“Still with me, love?” V murmured, a grunt leaving him when you wrapped both legs around his waist, thighs squeezing lightly, “Ah...gentle now, darling...I’m not done with you yet.”

He must certainly wasn’t. You kissed a line from his cheek to that sharp jawline, biting down lightly where neck met shoulders. V shuddered at your touch, gasping when you stroked a leg over his hard length, fully erect after taking so much time eating you out. Someone was certainly eager, weren’t they? You doubted he wanted to wait any longer, especially not with you grinding on him like that.

“I’m all yours,” You murmured, stroking a hand through his hair and giving it a light tug. He groaned immediately, head resting on your shoulders and breath coming faster, “Do you like that?”

V gripped your hip with one hand, bracing his weight on the other as he murmured, “I do...quite a bit.” 

Such a far cry from the bashful way he admitted it the first time around--now honest with desire and wants, needy as he leaned into each and every touch. You had learned so much about what he liked, what parts of that lovely body were the most sensitive. His fingers, shoulders, neck, hair, spine...all the best spots to kiss and touch, scraping your nails over the shoulder blades of his back and sucking the skin on his neck. That was going to leave a hickey, there was no doubt. But it would be yours to see, a secret. 

“S...sparrow...Y/N…” V groaned, grinding his length over your slick heat and making you both pause at the sensation of it, “Are you...can I…?”

_“Please.”_

It was all the affirmation he required, V rising from you to position his hips right where he needed them to be. You eagerly tilted your legs back again, spread and wanting for his cock. An invitation, one he would never ignore. What did you look like in his eyes, right at that moment? Hair still messed up from sleep, breasts bare and body in a position that was clearly meant for him and him alone. All yours, always. The poet almost looked ...entranced by the sight, bowing his head over you as the tip of his hard length pressed to your entrance, slick with the arousal left from your previous orgasm and finding no resistance. A breath passed between you both as he slipped inside, groan breaking past his lips while you took him inch by inch. Wet enough that it was an easy slide, body trembling eagerly as he filled you up in the best way.

This felt so right, like it always did. Two puzzle pieces meeting together, like your souls were meant for each other. 

A low groan escaped his parted lips, body pausing for a moment to feel your wet heat. You stared at his face in a mixture of desire and wonderment, loving how pleasure influenced his expression and made his hand grip your wrist ever so tighter. Even after all these months, your poet was so careful with you--waiting so there was time to adjust, your body relaxing around his cock and aching to feel him pound into you like before. You squeezed your legs around his waist for a moment, hips rising off the bed to grind encouragingly against his length. Such actions only elicited a gasp from you both, V’s head tilting back to show the smooth expanse of his throat and the slight bob of his adam’s apple upon swallowing. Such a pretty boy, struggling for control. You liked seeming him unrestrained every once in a while, but when he was trying to stay on his best behavior…

“So bashful,” You murmured, biting your lip when he tilted his jade eyes down to meet yours, “What happened to not restraining desire? Prove me wrong, Shakespeare.”

V let out a low, breathless chuckle at your challenge, leaning do so his nose lightly brushed yours. Breaths mingling in the air between, both bodies trembling with the need to seek pleasure in one another. His hips pressing on yours freed a whimper in your chest, resisting the urge to grind your clit against his skin. 

“Ask me _nicely,_ Sparrow,” He breathed, nipping softly at your lips while he continued to rub his body lightly against yours. Just enough friction to _not be enough._ Your breath was hitching in response, toes pressing into his lower back to urge on what you knew he wanted to, but purposely denied, “And I’ll indulge us both. Honesty would do us both good, wouldn’t you agree?”

You flushed at his coy, strained smile, those jade eyes firm and far more unyielding as you whimpered, “You are the worst, you know that right-- _ahhh..._ ”

Your words slipped into a soft moan when he retreated a bit, thrusting in once more before pausing his hips. _Damn it._ You knew what he wanted--V always loved making you say things that made you blush. He grinned, as if sensing your thoughts and enjoying them in kind. Mischief played a part in the desire now--this was payback for every time you cock-teased him in the past few months, there was no doubt about that. 

“Mmmm…” V hummed, lifting one of your hands and nibbling on each finger in order as he replied softly, “Perhaps I am, but acknowledging that isn’t getting you any closer to having me...is it?”

_So smug, so cocky._

Your resolve was far weaker than his patience, tempered by neediness and desire. Especially when he was grinding on you like that, pausing right when pleasure started to build and leaving you aching. His elegant fingers decided to fondle your breasts, teasing the stiff peaks until you were practically squirming. Right how he wanted you.

Face flushed, one hand raised to cover his jade eyes as he chuckled lightly in victory, your lips parted to utter softly and desperately, “Pl...please...fuck me...V...Please…?”

He let out a pleased purr, pulling your hand off to see just how flustered you were and grinning in delight. A kiss to your warm cheek followed, V cupping your jaw with gentle fingers as he whispered, “So precious...you can take me making love to you every night yet cannot utter those simple words without embarrassment?”

Something about it felt a lot different than acting on instinct--begging always made you feel bashful, especially when he wanted it. 

“Hush,” You muttered, pressing both hands to V’s cheeks like it would somehow convey your growing sense of need, “No more teasing, just--”

Your words were cut off in a sharp gasp when V finally yielded to your demands, hip snapping back before plunging in with one fluid movement. _Blessedly_ \--you could have sobbed in relief when the motion continued. _Right there, just like that_. He seemed to be done with the shenanigans too, drawing your arms around his neck with one hand and bracing with the other. Unrelenting now, lips capturing yours in a frenzied kiss while his cock plunged in and out of your aching sheath. It was definitely good that you both were home alone, because the lewd sounds you were making would definitely be heard by others. As it stood, anyone who walked down the beach could run the chance of hearing, but you didn’t care.

You bit down on V’s shoulder, kissing the mark a moment later and trailing those same kisses up to his neck. Something about V awash in pleasure and lust was poetic in its own right. Gorgeous, breathtaking. He was releasing sounds of pleasure, gasps and groans that vibrated deliciously against your eardrums.  No longer bashful like that first time, noises released without hiding and face pressing to your shoulder. His cock throbbed inside, growing closer and closer to filling you with his cum with each frenzied grind of V’s hips. You wanted it, needed it, craved it. Ever part of you now strained for that second release, wanting to make him feel good too.

“Y/N…” V rasped, a heady moan leaving his lips as both hands entered his hair for a firm yank, “Just like that...I’m so close, dearest Sparrow…”

You let out a soft whimper, squeezing tighter around him and keeping that firm hold on his silken locks, “Come for me...Give me all of it, sweetheart.”

Your own orgasm was fast approaching, cresting when V tilted your hips a bit further back in his thrusts and stroked those beautiful fingers over your clit. _Fuck--_ A sharp cry left your lips, hands gripping the poet’s hair hard as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. After the first orgasm, this one made your legs quake with the level of stimulation and muscles clench inside. _Almost too much,_ right on the cusp of how much rapture you could stand. It spiraled V into his own pleasure, slender hips stuttering and a breathy groan brushing by your ear as his hot load spilled in spurts. Your eyes practically rolled back in your head, body arching up to take all he had to offer and chest rising and falling in gasps. 

A gentle breeze drifted through the window as V slumped over, careful not to put all his weight on your resting body. It seemed so serene for a moment, your eyes drifting open to see the white curtains still swaying over you both, V’s shoulders rising and falling with his slowing breaths. Peaceful...tender, just as it should have been. Everything felt so unbelievably perfect, your body wonderfully spent and enjoying the fading throb of pleasure as you stroked a hand through V’s silken hair. He was your everything, every hope and desire and happiness wrapped into one bundle of a man. In that heartbeat of time, you felt so incredibly blessed, like a thousand years of lost happiness were nothing compared to what you got to share with him. All the loss, all the pain...they were a flickering, dying candle compared to the flame he kindled within.

Happy...you were so happy tears threatened to spring to your eyes.

You released a contented sigh, holding V in a tender embrace as you both caught your breath. Hours could have passed without caring, but...it took only a few minutes to gather everything back. There were still things that needed to be done, after all. Your poet was the first to raise his head, jade eyes meeting your gaze with an expression that took your breath away--One of absolute love and adoration, V staring at you like the entire world rested in your vision. A pleased rumbled left his chest, black hair swaying slightly as he leaned down to kiss your lips like you were air after years of suffocating. Such a kiss said a lot, more than any words could. 

“Thank you,” He murmured against your mouth, peppering kisses from there to your jaw as he continued softly, “For loving me despite...everything.”

You hummed lightly at that, pressing both hands to his cheeks so he could meet an adoring gaze of your own. He was always saying things of such a nature, as if he had something to prove or loving him was somehow difficult.

“You make it easy,” Another kiss to his lips, this one short and quick, “I would love you no matter what, V. You know that right?”

_Even if you betrayed me again._

_Even if things fall to pieces._

_You are the reason I breathe._

V wrapped both arms around you, pressing his forehead to yours as the words hung in the air for a few seconds. What was that expression he wore on his face? Something between thankfulness and...regret. Was he thinking of what happened in the Qliphoth tree again, about the moments he lied to you and became Vergil again? It had never clicked before, but...if V had been awake and present, he saw every reaction you had, every tear and heartache. It would explain why he couldn’t let go of his guilt, or why he felt the need to thank you every day for staying with him.it was so hard to move past all of that, but...you did have four months to work things out with friends and family while Vergil spent it all in hell.

Regardless...you knew these things could be worked on with time, and V was more than worth the effort.

So you smiled, pressing a light kiss to V’s nose before pulling back and reaching for the phone resting on your window sill. V took the hint pretty easily, letting out a quiet yawn as he pulled away and stretched his long arms over his head. You tried not to stare, really you did--but christ, he was so lovely. His muscles bunching and relaxing, skin of his shoulders marked with your kisses and bites... _We have things to do today, no staying in bed_. The movement slipped his length from your body, causing a light shiver and sigh in response while you say up as well. Making love in the morning was nice, but you would both need a shower after throwing the sheets in the washer. A small price to pay, one that you were willing to deal with. 

V took up the task of cleaning you up at the very least, leaving the bed briefly to get a washcloth from the bathroom cabinet. It gave ample opportunity to stare at his cute little butt as he departed, which was an absolute delight. He smirked at you on the way down, not oblivious to your wandering eyes in the slightest. Some forethought made him grab sweatpants from the banister before heading toward the door, which was probably for the best--on the off chance someone came home early, seeing him naked would not be ideal.

Upon a brief glance at your phone, you saw it was ten thirty in the morning, giving plenty of time to shower and get ready for lunch at noon. There would be no viable excuse for being late, and it would be rude to the children on top of all of that. You never wanted to upset or disappoint them after all the terrible things that happened all those months ago, so it was the bare minimum you could do. A yawn left your own lips, flopping back on the bed and counting each peaceful second as it passed. Some time out in the city would be lovely, wouldn’t it? The smiling faces of your friends, delicious meal at a local cafe or restaurant...perfect. Everything felt like heaven.

It was on that thought that V returned, cleaning you up and helping gather the sheets to throw in the washer. You smiled when your gazes met, gathering clothes to wear out and heading for the stairs.

“I’m going to shower,” You announced to him, feeling his eyes on your ass as well while pulling on a light robe for modesty, “We should hurry up and get ready to meet Kyrie.”

V let out a low hum of agreement, footfalls following close behind as you entered the hallway, “Maybe we should bathe together, my sparrow?” He leaned over your shoulder, pressing a light kiss to your ear as he whispered, “I believe it will be beneficial to us both.”

Of course he would think that. You giggled lightly, turning around to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Depends on how quickly you get those clothes in the washer, slim,” You breathed, pinching his cheek with gentle fingers, “And only if you promise to be on your best behavior.”

V’s returning smirk was downright evil, jade eyes meeting yours as he stroked his fingers over you chin.

“Oh darling...you and I both know I am a gentleman before anything else.”

_(Nero POV)_

Nero had never been so glad to get out of a meeting early.

He and Nico were already driving back through the streets of Fortuna, heading for  Madame Elenor’s considering they were able to head home earlier than expected. Honestly, why had they bothered coming by in the first place? The maps could have been sent via photo or email, but Dante and Vergil didn’t seem to have a god damn brain cell between them. His uncle in particular had a cell phone and an ancient computer, but only used the phone to play a really shitty version of tetris. As for his father...well. Spending so long in hell and other places had left him a bit out of tune with technology.

Regardless, they had gotten the needed information on the coming mission and swung back to catch the earliest ferry home. Dante and Vergil had been arguing about flowers of all things as Nero left, which Nico had agreed was incredibly strange. Neither of the two had any idea why the older men had flaked on what would be a friendly lunch in Fortuna, but whatever it was had them in...a bit of a mood. Nero wanted no part of it, and had practically dragged Nico out the door once the bare minimum amount of information had been met. Location? Check. Client? Check. Demon types they would be facing? You bet your ass that was another check on the list. And from there he would leave the planning to Dante and Vergil before they actually set out. 

For now, he would stop by the shop and see how the kids were doing in their crafting efforts. Then the whole group could walk to whatever restaurant they decided on, maybe settle the day off with some time swimming on the beach or a bonfire. After the past week of work and demon hunting, some relaxation wouldn’t hurt anybody--hell, even Nico seemed excited at the prospect of having some free time to sunbathe, claiming she needed to work on her tan and rest her weary fingers. Nero wanted nothing more than to have some time with his wife, seeing her beautiful hair glow in the sun and a bathing suit…

He flustered himself a bit. She was so lovely it made him crazy.

“Jeez, it’s so obvious when you’re thinking about Kyrie,” Nico’s loud complaint made him jolt, looking over from the passenger side of the van to see her shutting off the engine and smirking mischievously, “You always get the goofiest, dopey smile on your face.”

He tried to scoff and play it off as nonchalantly as possible, but it was hard when his cheeks and ears were still tinged pink. Plus he doubted there was getting past Nico’s eagle eyes no matter how hard he tried.

“Lay off, Nico,” He huffed, scratching the back of his head and ignoring her chortles as he hopped out of the van, “So I love my wife--sue me.”

“You sure fuckin’ do, psycho,” Nico snickered, whapping him a little too hard on the back. Meanwhile, her other hand pocketed the keys to her van in those usual shorts she wore, “Just make sure to put on sunscreen today--Kyrie ain’t gonna fuck a tomato and I can’t see your sorry ass blush when you’re burnt like a marshmallow.”

She was certainly relentless in the insults today. Nero tried not to get more flustered, instead rolling his eyes in response to her taunts and pulling open the door to the Madame’s shop. The front windows were lined with costumes and small set pieces, a little bell jingling above them to sound of their arrival. It would seem Eleanor closed her shop early to make time for the kids, a “closed” sign hanging in plain view. But the door had been left unlocked for them, so Nero and Nico started making their way past the lines of costumes to the back area where they knew the kids would be hard at work.

“Madame…! How does it look?”

“Kyrie, I can’t find the pink paint!”

“I have the paint, sweetie--you’re painting trees right now, you need green.”

The children’s excited voices clamored within earshot, making Nero smile and press through the doorway. They were met with a medium sized room with sewing materials, an open archway leading to an open courtyard lined with cut out prop pieces being painted by the group of eager kids. The ones from their orphanage were here, mingling with some kids Nero only vaguely recognized from seeing them occasionally around the city. It was nice--seeing the young ones they cared about spending some time with others their age was a nice change of pace. Nero was also surprised to see you and V here earlier than them--this was one of the few days no one would be home all morning without interruption, so the fact that you were already present was unexpected. You were cross-legged on the floor, helping Emma with her brushstrokes and smiling cheerfully.

Even more surprising was V, hoisting a child up on his shoulders so they could reach the very top of a tree with green paint. He wore an apron over his black button up shirt and grey slacks, but it didn’t save his face from being smeared with some color. The poet didn’t seem to mind, nodding along to whatever the boy was saying and calmly replying to his questions with a small smile. As for Kyrie, she was on her knees beside Julio and Carlo, tracing a template for them to paint on and showing them the proper way to mix colors for what they needed. And boy if Nero wasn’t so smitten, seeing her hair pulled into a messy bun, hands stained with the colors of a rainbow and eyes filled with love and adoration for the kids.

God damn he was so lucky.

Nico rolled her eyes at the dopey look on his face, brushing past him just as Madame Elenor stood from her corner with the other kids, walking over with a limp in her step and wiping paint on the apron she also wore. The children from the orphanage waved and yelled in excitement when they saw Nero and the mechanic, but were so focused on their tasks that they didn’t get up. Which was for the best--they were covered in paint all over their little hands, and he would rather not clean purple and green out of his good clothes. Instead, the white haired boy smiled at his wife, turning away from her gaze to greet the woman helping the kids with this project.

“Nero, so glad you could join us,” The Elderly woman greeted him with a warm smile, wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth as she grasped his hands, “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

The Madame had always been an incredibly kind woman. Getting up there in years, old age starting to slow her down a bit but not stopping the creativity and hard work. Nero could respect that.

He smiled lightly in response, wincing a bit at the sight of paint now on his fingers once she pulled away. Figures, “Thanks for helpin’ out with the kiddos, they’re having a good time,” Laughter punctuated his words, making the two look up and see Julio and Carlo giggling as they smeared paint on their faces. Kyrie chasing after with a handkerchief, of course, “The play too. Can’t remember the last time the theater set up anything worth doing.”

The elderly woman snorted, rolling her eyes as she settled on a nearby workbench to rest her weary legs, “Certainly. Making costumes for period dramas grew very tiresome--it’s a lot more energetic to work with the younglings.”

That was definitely an understatement. The devil hunter doubted the old woman had this much excitement in a while. But she seemed pleased about all of the activities going on, pale blue eyes tired but happy as she watched the kids make quick work of another prop, setting it up to dry in the wind and sun. Kyrie helped steady a little girl’s brushstrokes, the light making her hair glow a beautiful shade of auburn as she asked you a question. And that was a nice change of pace too--seeing you in such high spirits, smile no longer tampered by grief or pain and glowing bright as well. You seemed to be in your element among the kids, patient and kind enough to answer all their questions and help when needed. Very similar to his wife in a lot of ways--she had been a very good teacher, after all.

Nero let out a low sigh, leaning against the doorway and folding his arms as he watched the peaceful scene continue. Madame Elenor followed his stare, an amused grin tilting her lips as he kept a watchful gaze on his wife and family. The adoration and devotion was very apparent.

“I’m glad to see you’re finally settling down,” The woman commented, drawing Nero’s attention away briefly and meeting his gaze, “You were such a rebellious teenager--Kyrie is very good for you, such a kind and peaceful woman...her mother was the same way.”

She was one of the few people that didn’t tell Nero that Kyrie was too good for him, something he appreciated. As for her mother...he remembered her kindness too, and it was not lost on him.

So he let out a slow breath, smiling ruefully and scratching the back of his head, “I’m a lucky guy, there’s no mistake there...I don’t know what I would do without her.” She really was something special, carrying so much love and kindness in her body he sometimes wondered if there was any room for hate or animosity. Even when things upset her, she bounced back so fast he often wondered if she hid things away as to not burden others. But there was always communication, always talking with him and explaining how she felt about certain things. 

There was always trust, and he needed that more than anything.

Elenor let out a pleased hum at his response, nodding a few times and pushing her glasses up a bit. Those pale blue eyes scanned the courtyard, watching as you and V started helping pull a tarp over one of the dried prop pieces, kids standing all around to aid. Nero wasn’t watching her expression then, more focused on making sure none of the kids were doing anything to hurt themselves or spilling any paint on their clothes. The children from the orphanage still had to go out to lunch after this, but the other kids would be picked up by parents and family members. So focused as he was, he didn’t notice the curious look on the Madame’s face, the searching one as she kept her eyes on you. Observing as you laughed, picking up one of the kids and pressing a kiss to their cheek.

So that’s why it surprised him when the elderly woman spoke again, her voice low and thoughtful as she murmured, “Your other friend is like her mother too.”

That certainly made Nero blink. He turned, staring at the Madame in confusion and seeing a faraway look in her eyes, one of remembrance and wistfulness. What the hell was she talking about? There was no way she could have known your mother, right?

“What do you mean…?” Nero asked slowly, brow furrowed as the Madame turned to meet his perplexed gaze. 

She pursed her lips, head tilted in your direction as another prop was covered slowly and carefully, “I never forget a face, you know that,” The elder locked her eyes on you again, frowning now as she watched the children interact and clamor in excitement, “Even one I’ve seen a long time ago--I can remember the faces of Kyrie’s parents perfectly, and I remember another face too. A woman used to come into my shop years ago, a year before you were even at the orphanage I think...she looked just like Y/N, spitting image.”

_...What?_

Nero stared in blank shock, brain not sure what to do with the information and halting like the screeching of tires. Someone who was the spitting image of you in this city, before he was even born? But.. _.how was that possible_? Surely not, there was no way you would have a parent in Fortuna, that was very clear after all the information they learned about your past. Even while not knowing anything about your family, you were firm in the fact that it was a different dimension entirely. Wisps of memories, small feelings and Foresight told the truth in your statements--not to mention the fact that the Outsider changed your appearance after your first death to distance you from the life you lead. A fresh start, an entirely new you--even your name had been picked by him. From what you could gather, your parents lived in a small town anyway, not a city. So...how?

How could someone be here that looked just like you? Maybe the elder had finally gone senile, maybe it was just a simple mistake? But...practically everyone in Fortuna knew of her memory. Hell, the old woman could recall days from his childhood that blurred even for Kyrie and himself. Faces, names, events...Old age never soured her mind, not for a second. Conviction was in her tone, eyes firm and certain as she stared at you, like seeing a memory from long...long ago.

But...that couldn’t be right.

_This didn’t make sense._

_You said you’d never been to Fortuna before, this dimension before._

_So...why?_

Nero’s tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth, heartbeat starting to pick up while his head tried to piece things together, bit by bit. You were prone to having your memory erased, right? So...maybe you had been to this place before, without even realizing it? It was possible, especially with how unpredictable the Outsider was. But...didn’t the God only erase your memories with trauma? And what could he have sent you to do in Fortuna at the time? The Order of the Sword hadn’t been affected, and no big events had gone on until they were taken down. Not unless there was an event you did manage to prevent, one he didn’t know about.

 The devil hunter couldn’t find it in himself to reply, even as the Madame continued on wistfully in her story. And as the words continued to flow, his trepidation grew in spades, like icy fingers tapping their way along his spine.

“Timid little thing, she came in a few times to help me with odd jobs in return for coin and food,” The Madame sighed, closing her tired eyes and pausing briefly as she remembered the past, “She started coming by less and less, spending time with a tall, cloaked sword-wielding man walking the streets. An outsider like herself, I think. And then...well, I stopped seeing her at all. I got worried for a little while that something had happened to her after rumors circled the town but…”

The Madame shrugged, smile returning as she watched you hug Kyrie around the waist and giggle about whatever joke was said, “Her daughter is alive and well, a very kind person. If she turned out this way, I have no doubt that her mother ended up safe as well--I imagine the cloaked man she was with must have got her off the island before the Order fell...I just wished she would stop by and say hello before then.” 

_A...cloaked man?_

_Rumors?_

The woman slowly rose to her feet, wincing when her bones creaked and ached in protest, “I’ll have to ask your friend about her parents another day, when things aren’t quite so busy. It’s strange...she shares the same name as her mother too, which is a bit...odd. But she’s far too young to be the same woman.”

She didn’t notice Nero’s frozen expression, especially not when a couple kids ran up to her and loudly asked for help with a prop. Walking away before any more questions could be asked, things seeming to pass in slow motion for a brief second. He wasn’t able to move, watching numbly as she was pulled away by tiny hands, chuckling lightly at their enthusiasm. Things seemed so normal in comparison to the new truth laid at his feet--the kids didn’t notice Nero leaning against the doorway, a hand on his mouth and posture frozen in place. Nor did you, V, or Kyrie. All so focused on the task at hand, while he was left wondering just what the fuck was going on.

The elderly woman’s words had...struck a heavy chord of unease, one that gripped him in its tight vise and refused to let go no matter how hard Nero tried. 

His mind was working overtime, trying to figure out just what the hell was going on with so little information in front of him. Same name, same face...that had to be you, right? What the hell happened to you in Fortuna all those years ago, if he was to believe what Elenor claimed to be true? If you could travel from dimension to dimension, what was stopping the chance of going to a certain place twice? It was completely probable that Fortuna could have been one of your mission places, but...maybe you had failed? Something traumatic must have happened, and you had each memory erased. The Order of the Sword could have been a big target, but…

_But._

_The timing of it...was far too uncomfortable for Nero’s liking._

_A lot of these things were._

Nero’s brain was connecting things he absolutely should not be trying to connect--but it wouldn’t stop, it refused to. Not with this new information, not with things he had felt on the edge of his consciousness for a long...long time.

He had heard rumors too... _hadn’t he?_ When trying to figure out the identity of his parents as a teenager, asking anyone who would listen if they could remember anyone dropping a baby off at the orphanage. Claims ranging from it maybe being a teenage mother who made a mistake, him being a cursed twin left by a frightened family. Ect, ect. But...those all came up empty. And besides, he had demonic blood in his veins, so anything stating he came from normal humans was implausible anyway. No, he only took to heart things that could actually depict something other than human.

And a couple tales came to mind. Not ones he heard while searching out his parents, but rather things heard in passing. Demon attacks were a common thing in the city until the Order fell, but people who actually held their own against the creatures outside of said Order were...rare. Nero remembered tales of an inhuman man in a cloak who once traveled the city streets for a short time, witnesses seeing him take out demons with speed and precision no mere mortal could have. As a teenager, it had all seemed so silly--why should he think that this man had to be his father, especially with nothing to go on? This apparent stranger came and went in a matter of a couple months, leaving no trace behind.

In retrospect...that did sound like Vergil, a lot like Vergil. Tall, cloaked, deadly and precise. Wielding a sword, obviously. But...Nero hadn’t put much thought into the stranger’s companion this late in his life, not when he was still trying to grasp the fact that he had a father _in the first fucking place._

Less was known about _her_ \--a lady in red, according to a few passing voices that could barely recall the tales. After all, why did such things matter years later? Those people were gone, but some fleeting memories remained. Coming and going from Fortuna was incredibly rare, outsiders stuck out like a sore thumb and were generally met with wariness and fear back then. Some rumors claimed she was human, but a few more...a few more mentioned powers too, didn’t they? He had waved those away--he was mostly human, right? Mostly human meant only partial demon, the woman had to be human.

Had to be.

_Right?_

_But…_

The timeline... _the timeline._ It fit, didn’t it? This woman who looked like you was in Fortuna before he was in the Orphanage, a year before. Around the time Vergil was in Fortuna, a tall, cloaked man with a sword. There was no fucking way that could be anyone else, right? You already stated your age was a question mark after traveling for the Outsider for so long, and visiting to the same dimension twice without remembering it was...plausible. If something trauma based had happened to you in Fortuna...it would explain why you disappeared without warning, especially when he considered the fact that you had not been with his father when all the conflict between him and Dante had occurred. At least...that’s what he assumed.

Vergil would have remembered your face, though, wouldn’t he? But...his father claimed to have lost memories after a particularly bad run in with Mundus, avoiding the topic like the plague and growing agitated whenever Nero brought it up. So the younger Sparda learned to stop asking about it, not wanting to fuck things up when the once-surly male was clearly trying his best. Although that was what he claimed, Nero had always felt there might have been more knowldge to find, especially with the mentioned trials.

Thinking back on it...Nero’s foreboding grew in spades, leaps, and bounds.

You had eventually spoken of what happened in the Void, Vergil forced to go through three trials in punishment for his actions. The first was reliving the trauma of his mother’s death, the second seeing what happened with Mundus and becoming Nelo Angelo. And the third...well, your memory went blank at the third, fairly certain that the Outsider took your memory of it, but not knowing why. It was of little consequence at the time--you were just happy to have V back, and didn’t put any thought into it.

Nero had asked his father in passing about it, and V too since they seemed to share memories. Both clammed up at the third trial, Vergil stating curtly that it was a part of his past he’d rather not repeat aloud or bring into light, and V...well, V replied that Vergil’s memories weren’t his to share, nor were his traumas or mistakes. And it ended with that, Nero shrugging it off just as easily now that things had seemingly grown so calm.

But now...less calm. There was a reason your memory of the third trial had been removed, especially if that reason was…

_That’s not possible._

 Nero turned, stalking back into the shop before anyone could notice the growing look of panic and confusion on his face. Both hands ran through his hair, heart pounding in his ears as he walked out to the van and leaned against its metal form, trying to talk out of his own reasoning and just carrying the disbelief and fear in circles. Not many people were on this street so early in the day, more than likely on the square or on the beach so there would be no one to see him trying to collect himself.

Vergil wasn’t the type to screw around with multiple women, that was obvious. But he was the type to reluctantly start traveling with one, maybe get too close. If something bad happened, if you had died...there would be no memory, no trace, no knowing him. Maybe no knowledge of having a...

_There is no fucking way._

Nero felt his blood run cold, brain scrambling with this knowledge and sending off several warning bells that made him feel sick to his stomach. There was no way, right? This was stupid, foolish, idiotic--his head was just doing things it shouldn’t connecting dots that weren’t there.

As hard as he tried to tell himself that...the seed of doubt had been planted, and it was flourishing. He couldn’t even form the proper words or coherent thoughts, unable to even comprehend it. His friend, his best friend...the same one he had laughed with at home, messing up your hair, calling each other “jackass” at any given moment, flinging food at the dinner table. The one who he watched fall apart in the Qliphoth, who he had carried home and helped build back up for so long. There was no way that you could be his...no. That wasn’t possible, and as much as he wanted to ask…

He couldn’t, could he?

Memories of trauma were taken for a reason. According to you, the Outsider only took things that were too overwhelming for you to handle. Things that could break you, weights to heavy to bare. If he asked you about it, made you remember something on accident…That wasn’t a risk that could be taken. But there were other ways to find out, right? Maybe that would be best, a simple DNA test without your knowledge could easily show him that this theory was foolish and contrived, take the burden off his shoulders and allow things to continue in peace as they were.

But...what if it only proved the truth? Would he be able to keep treating you like a friend as before, would he even be able to look at you the same way?

He couldn’t live with this ignorance...somehow, not knowing seemed worse.

_I need to know. I need to be sure._

_Even if it changes things...I spent so long not knowing._

_Now that the thought is there...I need to do something or else it’ll get worse._

And even if he did find out it was true, what did he have to change? His mind was starting to calm, looking for reason and stability anywhere he could find it. You were his best friend, incredibly kind and caring to everyone around--even in the Qliphoth, making sure people were eating, encouraging him when it seemed like no one else would. If the truth came to light that after all this time, after all the wondering, hate, and resentment that maybe he _wasn’t_ an unwanted child...It was startling, it went against everything he taught himself. If you had died, if you didn’t remember anything...it was very possible that he had been loved, right? You definitely weren’t the type to just throw away your flesh and blood, there was so much love in your heart, like Kyrie. But...it made sense if things happened outside of your control, a tragedy. 

If he found out that...you were his mother, after all this time...then wouldn’t that be a relief? To know his mother was just a timid, lost girl under the guidance of a distrustful God, one who went through something terrible and wasn’t able to keep him--compared to all the ideas of him being abandoned for being partially demon, of his mother not wanting him, this was a blessing in comparison. And he could hold his tongue, bottle it all in even if he knew the truth. Because at the end of the day, you had always been family, his friend...All he wanted was the truth, and if he could get it then that would be enough.

_I was wrapped in a cloth when Kyrie’s mother found me on the doorstep, dry despite the rain. The cloth was stained in blood, like whoever gave birth had me and dropped me off not long after._

Nero made up his mind, resolve snapping in place like steel chords inside and binding every decision in place. By the time Kyrie emerged with the kids an hour later, he had a casual smile on his face again, all the traces of panic and confusion tampered down even when you emerged with an arm locked around V. Smiling, happy, greeting him with a nudge of your elbow and a teasing comment about Vergil and Dante giving him a hard time. No one would notice anything was amiss with him, at least...that’s what he hoped.

“...Nero?” 

The white-haired boy paused, lagging behind the group a bit as they started walking toward the square. You and Nico holding the kids hands, Kyrie pulling Nero’s arm with her gentle fingers and staring at him in worry. 

But all he could muster was a small smile, leaning down to kiss the top of her head while pulling her along toward the others.

“Later, I promise.”

Kyrie’s eyes missed nothing, but this wasn’t something he could talk with her about, not yet at least. He needed to be certain, things needed to be proven and solid first. If the white-haired boy discovered that his theories were wrong and just his brain foolishly searching for what wasn’t there...well, he would tell his wife and have a little laugh, and maybe wonder about what happened to you in Fortuna all those years ago. She only nodded at his words, still seeming concerned but lacing her fingers with his as they caught up to the group just as they were deciding on the restaurant. You briefly looked at him, as if sensing his off mood yourself, but...knew not to say anything.

If it was the truth...Nero would tell Kyrie, warn her not to bring it up to you. And then he would ask Vergil about it, proof in hand and get the story from his mouth. Because there was no doubt that he and V both knew something that they weren’t telling.

Nero would be able to keep his cool through lunch, through everything. Arguing with Nico, talking with the kids, watching you laugh with Kyrie and the others while one hand grasped V’s tightly. There was truth to be had, but at the end of the day you would always be his family and friend above all other things. And that came first, your well-being always came first.

_Some things were more important._

If he discovered you were this woman in red, his mother...then he would get the story from Vergil and be done with it. Just being able to know both parents was something Nero thought he’d never have, and to know his mother was someone kind and sweet in comparison to Vergil? Well...he could live with that, could go on being your friend without changing a damn thing if it meant saving you from trauma. Life would go on as always, but he would just have one less mystery hanging over his head.

There was definitely a truth to be had. But at the end of the day...family was family. And he was willing to do whatever it would take to defend it. 

“Hey Nero?”

The boy looked up as he walked alongside his wife and the children, seeing you looking at him with mischief in your expression. The afternoon light making your hair glow, one arm locked with V’s as he chuckled at whatever you had cooking up.

Nero swallowed down the hesitation and uncertainty, replying easily enough, “Yeah?”

You grinned, jabbing him in the side once with a hint of challenge in your tone, one he easily caught onto, “When we get back, we should spar on the beach. You, me, and some good old-fashioned water guns.”

What was that in your expression? A hint of concern, worry for him that you were trying to mask with playfulness. _She’s worried, and trying to cheer me up_ \--Nero clicked that in place right away, knowing damn well that sparring was one of his ways to blow off steam. Of course you caught onto his unease as well, just as observant as Kyrie. He felt his wife squeeze his hand too, punctuating the offer with support of her own. 

And it was in that moment, Nero realizing how very blessed he was. To have people who cared and loved him that much, to have a chance of discovering his mother was something like you, someone already close to him. It made him smirk a bit, picking up Carlo from where he walked with the other kids and letting the boy hug him around the neck.

“You’re on,” He replied with a low smirk, eyeing V at your side and adding cockily, “Bet I could take you and Shakespeare on at once.”

V rose a simple brow at that, lips quirking up in a smile as he replied with a low chuckle, “You can certainly try.”

The kids all chattered in excitement, wanting in on the battle and eager at the prospect of playing with super soakers. Nico seemed to want in on it too, pinching one of Nero’s cheeks and claiming she would ally herself with him in this so called “battle”. Nero was willing to bet there would be treachery afoot, but Kyrie would always be there to back him up in the long run. 

They all would. And when the truth eventually came...that would always remain the same.

~The End~


End file.
